Racing Time
by TiFFaNY-TWiSTeD
Summary: Lindsey O'Connor landed herself in trouble late one night, and her only option is to start over with her brother Brian in L.A. It's amazing how fast a simple race can turn into a struggle for your life. AU Post Tokyo Drift and 2F2F, Han/OC.
1. Fast Cars and Freedom

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. The Fast and the Furious, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, and all the characters of those movies belong to someone else._

RICKMAN FIELD AIRSTRIP  
PRIVATE PROPERTY  
DO NOT ENTER

Lindsey O'Conner slowed to an abrupt stop in front of the tall chain-link gate, idly adjusting the booming bass level in her purring, modified Mitsubishi Eclipse. Through the tinted windows, she saw two football players jump from the flatbed of a Dodge Ram behind her, sprinting to the gate. One of them pulled a key ring from his pocket, and moments later the gate was thrown open.

A cheer rose through the air as Lindsey shifted and flew through the fence, her Toyo tires kicking up dust from the dirt road below as she sped over the uneven terrain. Moments later, she hit a long, straight stretch of pavement that extended a few hundred feet in the distance. The cars following Lindsey parked quickly, bordering both sides of the road and shining their brights through the darkness. People hopped out of their cars, leaving their stereos blasting.

Smirking, Lindsey gunned her engine and cranked her system. Shouts of encouragement rose from the crowd as she slammed on the gas, her tires squealing as she traveled down the pavement. As she reached the end of the strip, she pulled the e-brake and counter-steered, effortlessly drifting in a perfect half circle to face the crowd.

Glancing to her left, she saw a tall black guy with close cut hair approaching the driver's side of her car. She lowered the window and he bent down, resting his arms on the door. "Hey lil mama, what's good?"

"Hey, D," Lindsey replied.

"Some kid from up north wants to race you," he revealed with a grin. "Rollin' in a standard looking Lancer. I said you'd go for two g's."

Lindsey grinned, shrugging nonchalantly. "Always the businessman, Derez," she responded.

"You know," he agreed, grinning and showing off his perfect white teeth. Derez was one of her closest friends, and he knew a shitload of people. He was constantly finding new talent rolling through the area and bringing them to the local races. He pretty much ran things around here.

"Where is he?" Lindsey asked curiously, her light blue eyes searching the crowded airstrip for a car she didn't recognize.

"I don't-" he began, but was interrupted by the familiar sound of squealing tires. Lindsey caught sight of a pair of headlights shining in her rearview mirror moments later, and in a heartbeat a bright red Lancer slid to a sudden, noisy stop in the lane to her right.

Lindsey stared at the car, her right eyebrow raised, thoroughly unimpressed. Blinking a couple times, she turned to face Derez. "Never mind," she drawled sarcastically. "I found him."

He laughed. "Aight, mama, I'll see you at the finish line. Do me proud," he called as he swaggered away from the car.

She prepared to crank her stereo up again, but caught sight of the new driver staring at her through his lowered window. Turning to him, she called, "Is there a problem?"

The guy, a bleached blonde in his early twenties, shrugged. "Not really. Just surprised you're the best racer around here."

Lindsey sighed, grimacing. "You won't be after this is over," she replied simply.

He laughed. "Please, honey, you haven't seen what I've got under this hood."

She grinned with amusement. "The size of your engine doesn't do much good if you don't know how to use it. But then again, you're probably not used to having much to work with, are you?"

The guy clenched his jaw. "Whatever. Are we gonna race, or are you gonna bitch out?"

"The only bitch I see here is you," she responded instantly, revving her engine and rolling up her windows. The dark tinting effectively blocked the asshole's line of vision and gave her a few extra seconds to concentrate.

Moments later, a girl Lindsey recognized as a cheerleader from school stepped in front of the cars.

She pointed at Lindsey, who nodded.

She pointed at the new guy, who gunned his engine.

She raised her arms, pointing upwards. _The sky's the limit_, Lindsey thought with a wry grin.

She took a deep, steadying breath, forgetting the crowd, the music, and the money, focusing only on her car and the road before her. It wasn't about winning anymore; she was reveling in the freedom she had behind the wheel. No one could catch her; she was untouchable. She had the power to win, to lose, to turn around and never come back. That power was absolutely addictive, almost as addictive as the adrenaline coursing through her veins every time her speedometer rose over ninety miles per hour.

Suddenly, the cheerleader's arms flew upward, and Lindsey's foot slammed down on the accelerator. The car lurched forward, hurtling down the stretch of blacktop and climbing speed as she went. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Lancer falling behind. Grinning, she continued to accelerate, shifting gears smoothly and staying clear from his path. He was weaving on the pavement a little unsteadily.

She stayed at least two car lengths ahead down a majority of the stretch, but with only a couple hundred feet left, the guy hit his NOS. He flew up directly next to Lindsey, who made a move to press the little red button on her steering wheel. Before she could apply any pressure, however, the new guy swerved dramatically again, unable to handle the high speed his car was traveling.

Lindsey jerked her steering wheel to the left, attempting to avoid the impact from his car, but was her reaction was too slow. The tight ball of excitement in her stomach burst into pure terror as the Lancer slid into her Eclipse with a loud scrape. She tried desperately to counter steer and keep the car on the pavement as her heart beat double time in her chest, and she almost succeeded… _almost_.

Her car hit the grass and dirt at over 110 miles per hour. The Eclipse immediately flipped once, twice, three, four times, tossing her small body around like a doll, the safety harness barely offering any protection at all. Glass shattered and seemed to fly through the air in slow motion; the airbags deflated before her eyes. Finally, her head slammed into the side of the car and her vision went black as screams of hysteria rose outside her car.

-X-

The next morning, Lindsey awoke blearily with a massive, throbbing headache. Her father, Jimmy, and his girlfriend, Tina, were seated in chairs near the bed she was lying in, discussing something quietly. She sat up slowly.

"Dad…" she started, wincing as another sharp stab of pain shot through her skull.

Tina hurried outside to get the doctor as Jimmy walked to her bedside. "Lindsey, how you feelin'?"

"Like hell," she replied with a weak grin.

He gave her a small grin, then sobered quickly. "The doctor said you'll be fine, just a bit groggy from the head injury. You had some swelling but it went down overnight. They didn't have to operate, so after the bruising goes way you'll be good as new."

"Good," she said simply, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You were lucky, Linds. Really lucky," he repeated.

"I know, Dad," she nodded.

"What were you thinkin' racin' out there? Especially with there being a party?" he questioned. "The guy you were racing was so high I'm surprised he could still operate a vehicle. The only reason he was driving was because he needed money for more cocaine!"

"I know Dad," she said again. "It was stupid for me to race someone I'd never met. I know, I know," she got louder as he tried to cut in. "I shouldn't have been racing at all, but what's done is done. The worst is over, so now we can go back to normal, right?" she finished irritably. _What the hell do you have to do to get some Ibuprofen in this place?_

"Not exactly," he answered slowly.

Lindsey looked up, surprised. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He frowned, slipping his hands in his pockets. "Your license has been revoked until your eighteenth birthday. And I spoke with an officer this morning… The county is considerin' charging you with reckless driving and public endangerment. Plus, your blood alcohol level was over the legal limit for underage drinkers," he added sternly.

"Oh, shit," she breathed, her heart falling into her stomach. "There wasn't any damage to property or anything. And they caught a druggie! I mean, if I hadn't flipped my car they wouldn't even know 'bout any of it!"

"I talked to the officer. He suggested sending you away for a while. Maybe a year."

"What the hell's that gonna do?" she asked stubbornly. "Walkin' away will probably just get me in more trouble."

Jimmy shrugged. "He said if you agreed to do some community service and to spend your senior year on probation, outside the county, you could probably get away without a trip to juvie."

"That's…" she started, shaking her head. "That's fuckin ridiculous. Where do they think I'ma go?"

He was silent for a minute. "How do you feel about L.A.?"

-X-

Brian O'Connor leaned against a column in front of the baggage claim at Los Angeles International Airport, arms crossed over his chest, a bored look gracing his features as he scanned the passing faces.

Three weeks ago, he and Rome had gone their separate ways, splitting the money they'd scammed from the FBI and swearing to keep in touch. Rome was on his way to Mexico, planning to spend a few years across the border finding himself a nice senorita. Brian, unable to think of any other place he'd rather be, had returned to L.A.

It had been six months since Race Wars. Word had it that insufficient evidence had put the Toretto Team in the clear, and they'd picked up right where they'd left off; dominating the streets of Southern California. And that's right where Brian intended to be.

This time, however, he had a little baggage. His little sister had gotten herself into some shit, and their well-meaning but often clueless father had called Brian in a panic. "Can you keep her? Just for a few months, until she can live on her own. Could you make sure she stays out of trouble? You're the only one who can keep her safe right now," Jimmy said, and Brian agreed. Lindsey had a knack for getting herself in sticky situations, and this was no different. She needed to lay low with him until things blew over this time.

It was gonna be tough, however. Lindsey didn't take directions well, and she'd resented him since he left home after their mom died. Their relationship… sucked, for lack of better terms. The next few months were gonna be an adventure.

Brian's thoughts were jarred as he caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd of people. Lindsey, dressed in a pair of low-riding jeans and a black camisole, was gracefully skirting through the crowd, a large tote bag and suitcase in tow.

"Linds!" he called out over the bustling noise of the airport. She looked up, spotting him immediately, and walked over casually.

"Hey," she said nonchalantly.

"Hey," he returned, grinning at her indifference. "How was your flight?"

She shrugged. "Short," she said simply, running a hand through her straight, dark blonde hair. "How was your wait?"

"Long," he replied with a smile. She laughed lightly, rolling her eyes. "Your shit got to the apartment yesterday. I put the boxes in your room," he continued, grabbing the suitcase and starting to walk toward the exit.

"That's cool," she replied with a nod.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I registered you at the closest high school yesterday. You get to take the rest of the week off and start on Monday."

She winced. "Oh, fun," she commented sarcastically.

He chuckled, holding the glass door to the parking garage open for her. "It won't be that bad. You're a senior, and it's pretty laid back out here."

"Yeah, I guess," she replied, unconvinced, as she walked through. "How am I getting there?"

"To school?" he asked, following her and leading the way to his car. She nodded slowly, and he looked thoughtful, as if he hadn't considered the problem. "Um… We'll figure something out," he answered, stopping and pulling out his keys.

"That sounds promising," she drawled, rolling her eyes. Suddenly, she let out a sound of disbelief. "Is that your car?"

"What's with the tone of surprise?" Brian questioned, popping the trunk of a red-orange '69 Yenko Camaro.

She grinned. "It's actually in one piece," she teased lightly, stuffing her bag in with the subs.

"Oh ha ha," he responded. "Says the girl who totaled her car less than a week ago."

"And it's a muscle car," she added suspiciously, ignoring his comment completely. "Not really your thing."

He smiled. "No, it's not. That's why I'm probably gonna get rid of it pretty soon," he said secretively. "Now get in the car."

-X-

Brian's apartment surprised Lindsey. It was located on the top floor of a nice building, complete with a pool, landscaping, and plenty of parking spots. The door opened directly into the living room, where he'd set up a nice-sized TV, complete with DVD, an XBOX, and surround sound, of course. Boys didn't play when it came to their entertainment systems. There was also a nice black leather couch and a chair, a coffee table, and a lamp. The small kitchen was on the other side of the room, with a little table and four chairs. There was plenty of room for improvement, of course, but it wasn't completely unfortunate.

Brian's room was on the right side of living room, next to the bathroom. Lindsey's was on the left. Surprisingly, he'd given her the master room with a private bath, so they "wouldn't have to fight for the bathroom," he'd explained. She had a big, queen sized bed, a nightstand, a chest of drawers, a TV, and a walk-in closet. All-in-all, she deduced that living in the apartment wouldn't be too bad; she'd rarely have to come out of her room.

Later that evening, as she was unpacking her clothes from the boxes stacked in the middle of the room, Brian knocked on the door. She stood up and opened it, raising a brow. "What's up?"

"Just wonderin' if you wanted to grab something to eat?" he asked, shrugging.

She glanced at her cell, which read 8:45pm. Her stomach growled as she realized how hungry she was, and he laughed. "Oh, shut up. And yeah, I'm starving, let's go!"

"Alright," he agreed, grabbing his keys off the table and promptly dropping them as his phone rang. "Son of a bitch…"

Lindsey opened the door, laughing as she watched him pick his keys up over her shoulder. She turned around at the last minute, gasping as she stopped only centimeters away from a very solid body standing in the middle of the hall. "Shit!" she exclaimed.

The guy had his back to her, unlocking the door to the apartment across the hall. Unfortunately, the hallway was very narrow, and Lindsey had almost run into him.

"You okay?" the roadblock asked in quiet, deep tone, turning around to look at her. He had the faintest hint of an accent…

Lindsey looked up at her victim and felt her heart jump into her throat. He was gorgeous. Tall, dark, and Asian, with long, silky dark hair and black eyes. He was smirking down at her, and after a second she realized he was waiting for an answer to his question.

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied, struggling to remain casual. "You just caught me off guard."

He nodded. "My bad," he responded, looking at her closely.

Brian chose that moment to throw the door to their apartment open, hastily entering the hallway and closing it noisily behind him. Noticing the third party, a friendly grin crossed his face. "Hey man."

"Ay, Brian, whatchu done?" the sexy guy asked warmly, lifting his chin up slightly. Lindsey kept her face expressionless, but felt her stomach react to his voice in a very pleasant way.

"Nothin' much, forreal. This is my little sister, Lindsey. She's gonna be living here for a while," Brian explained. "Linds, this is Han. He lives across the hall."

"Yeah, I gathered that," she replied sarcastically. She could have sworn that the corners of Han's mouth twitched, but a second look at his stoic expression discredited her suspicion. Focusing on him, she lost the attitude. "It's nice to meet you," she said sincerely. _Because you are so_ damn _fine_, she added silently.

He nodded. "You too," he responded. "Sorry bout livin' with him, though," he apologized, smirking and tilting his head in Brian's direction.

She laughed, and Brian rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We're going to get some food, so I guess we'll see you around, dude," Brian nodded, starting off down the hall.

Lindsey glanced at Han once more, sending him a flirty grin. "Bye," she added softly, following after her brother. "Hey, Brian! Slow your ass down. McDonalds will still be there in five minutes, you know…" she continued as she rounded the corner to go downstairs.

Han turned back to unlock his door, chuckling to himself at Brian's sister's antics. She seemed pretty entertaining. And she's gorgeous, even if she is young, he thought, recalling her vibrant blue eyes and dazzling smile.

Opening the door to his apartment, he pushed all thoughts of women out of his mind. After all, there were a couple dozen waiting for him at the races that night.

-X-

In an estate in Beverly Hills, a tall, powerful looking man with graying hair was seated at a patio table at his poolside, smoking a cigar and looking very grim. His loose white button down shirt billowed lightly in the breeze, and his silver Cartier watch glittered in the bright sunlight. His coal black eyes were pinned on the man across the table in a piercing stare.

"What are you trying to tell me, Mr. Gaines?" the man asked quietly.

The other man, a scruffy, tattooed guy of Cuban descent, shrugged. "The girl's gone. The word around the high school is that her dad made a bargain with the police, you know, like she wouldn't get in trouble as long as she wasn't around anymore," Gaines explained. "I think the cops got her out of town because they're afraid Johnny's gonna try to get to her. He's pissed off, because he wants the money he says she owes him."

"Johnny should no longer be on my payroll," the older man said coldly.

"I know," Gaines replied instantly. "And I'm gonna take care of him, as soon as he gets me the money he lost us, Mr. Kale."

"That would be in your best interest, yes," Mr. Kale agreed. "I'm also leaving it up to you to make sure these runners aren't still involved in street racing. Finding them there is fine; they are fast, and they usually have no problem breaking the law. However, if they continue racing when they are still making a run, they're risking my product. They get caught with the drugs, and I lose my money," he finished.

"Exactly," Gaines agreed. "I've told them all, time and time again, not to race on the clock."

Kale looked at him again, his expression cool. "I don't pay you to pass along messages, Gaines, I pay you to be sure they are taken seriously."

Gaines swallowed. "I understand, sir," he replied nervously.

"Perhaps," Kale said thoughtfully. "You should locate this girl for Johnny. I'd like my money soon, so we can dispose of him. He's a liability."

"I can do that," Gaines agreed. "I've heard she's here in L.A."

"Fascinating," Kale murmured, drawing from his cigar again.

"I thought so. It's only a matter of time before she winds up at the races," Gaines shrugged. "And I'll be there waiting for her."

-X-

_Author's Note: Reviews are definitely appreciated. If I don't think a lot of people are reading I get discouraged!  
And the next chapter will have more insight to Lindsey's character and attitude, and more Han! Since he was only present for a minute in this chapter I kind of felt like he got robbed. But I'll make it up to you all next time._


	2. Ride Wit Me

A few days later, Lindsey climbed out of the passenger's seat of Brian's gaudy Camaro, propping her folded arms up on the open door. The warm summer breeze lifted her honey blonde hair as an old McDonalds rapper blew across the almost empty parking lot. Only a few cars, all modded and ready for racing, were slotted in the spots by the closed garage door. The sign by the street simply read DT's Garage.

"This is where you work?" she asked skeptically, squinting to get a closer look in the moonlight.

Brian climbed from the car, slamming the driver's side door shut behind him. "Yep," he replied, rubbing his face with his hands.

Lindsey winced as she caught sight of the magnificent bruise circling his left eye. Two days ago, he showed up at the apartment looking like he played punching bag, smiling like his favorite baseball team won the Series and announcing that he had his old job back. Even after seventeen years, she did not understand the boy.

"Alright," she said. "Why are we here?"

He grinned secretively, nodding his head toward the garage and walking purposefully toward the plate glass office door. Lindsey sighed, following him reluctantly and stepping carefully in her knee high leather boots. "Brian, I hate it when you don't answer me."

"That's why I do it," he replied, like it was the obvious answer, glancing back at her before throwing the door open.

Loud rock music poured outside as the O'Connor siblings walked in. Lindsey felt every eye in the room turn to her as the group inside realized she was there. Feeling a little uncomfortable, she fought to keep her cool, calm, and collected exterior and sent Brian a pointed look. Getting the message, he spoke up.

"Hey everybody. This is my sister, Lindsey. Linds, this is the team. The guy working on the Silvia is Dom," he pointed to a tall, muscular, bald man wrenching on a blue car. "This is his place. That's Vince," he pointed to a scruffy guy talking to Dom. "Back there on the computer is Jesse, the mad scientist, and that's Mia and Letty," he said, gesturing to two dark haired women to their left. "Leon's on the couch, and you've met Han," Brian finished.

The hot guy from the apartment across the hall was seated coolly in an armchair, drinking a beer. His eyes instantly flickered to the door when they walked inside, and Lindsey felt his appraising look gliding over her during the introductions. Turning her gaze to Han as Brian nodded in his direction, she locked eyes with him defiantly. If he was gonna stare, she was gonna stare back.

Finally, he broke eye contact, turning back to his friend. Lindsey relaxed her expression into a grin. "Hey," she greeted 'the team' simply. "So which one of you gave him that black eye?"

Most of the team chuckled, and Mia guiltily raised her hand.

Dom straightened up. "Lindsey, right?"

She nodded casually, and he continued. "Brian said you flipped your car racing."

"Brian talks too much," she replied instantly, earning an appreciative laugh from one of the women; Lindsey thought her name was Mia.

Dom grinned. "That might be true," he nodded. "Look, you roll with me, you work for me," he explained. "So we're gonna have to find a way for you to make me some money."

Lindsey shrugged. "I don't have a car. Mine's currently locked up at the Barstow County Impound lot looking like a crumpled beer can… At no fault of my own, might I add."

His grin widened. "That's what they all say."

Brian interrupted. "I'm not sure if I want her racing, Dom," he said, frowning. "I haven't seen her drive in a while. She might not be ready for the competition out here."

"I wouldn't worry about that," Lindsey added, sending Brian a rebellious glare. "After all, you do fine, and everybody's always said I'm a better racer than you."

Brian rolled his eyes as Dom, Mia, Jesse, and Leon laughed. "Still, I'd be more comfortable with you just working at the store for awhile."

"It's whatever," Lindsey said. "I don't really care either way. I do need a car, though."

"Why?" Brian asked. "You don't have a license."

"Like that's gonna stop me," she responded sarcastically. "You act like you don't even know me, Brian. A little plastic card doesn't give me the ability to drive, so not having one sure as hell isn't gonna keep me out of a car."

Dom smirked, turning his head and looking pointedly as Han, who had tuned in on the conversation again. He leaned forward, folding his hands, listening closely. His face was almost stoic, but a shadow of a grin betrayed both his amusement and interest.

"Whatchu thinking, Han?" he called out.

"Put her in a ride, Dominic," he replied. "I wanna see what she's got."

Brian sighed. "This ain't a good idea…"

Dom chuckled. "That's what I think every time I let your volatile ass drive," he joked. "Don't worry so much, Brian. I don't have a car for her right now anyway."

Lindsey sighed, disappointed, until Letty spoke up for the first time. "Since when's that been a problem?"

Dom looked at her, then nodded slowly. "Good point, baby," he said thoughtfully, crossing his arms. "Let's head out."

"Where we going?" Brian asked.

"To get shawty a car," Dom replied with a smirk. Turning to Lindsey, he said, "You're ridin' with Han."

-X-

As the team made their way outside, Lindsey held back, waiting for Han to exit the garage. He jerked his head to the left in a universal "follow me" gesture as they entered the parking lot, and for once Lindsey did as she was told. Han pulled his keys out of his pocket as they approached a modified Honda NSX-R with a Veilside kit. The car was dropped low to the ground, the windows were tinted to an illegal percentage, and the custom paint job faded perfectly from an inky black on the hood back to a pale silver.

"Oh, shit," Lindsey breathed when she saw the car. He grinned, moving closer to the car and pulling on the driver's side handle. The entire door extended out from the car about an inch, then the side with the handle rose upwards. "With Lambos?" she asked. "How much money have you put in this thing?"

He chuckled. "A little bit," he shrugged. Turning around to face her, he examined her closely. "How'd you wreck your car?"

She sighed irritably. "I was racing some guy that was more cracked out than Courtney Love at one of her concerts, and he sideswiped me. I was almost out of the way… but almost isn't good enough when you're doin 120 on an airstrip," she shrugged.

He nodded passively. "Okay," he replied, seeming satisfied with the answer.

Lindsey opened her mouth to ask why he wanted to know, but was cut off by a set of keys leaving his hand and traveling through the air toward her. She caught them instinctively, then looked down at them in her right hand. "Why…?"

"You're driving," he told her with a smirk, walking around to the passengers' side.

She gaped at him, not moving. He opened the passengers' side door, watching her stare at him. Finally, he raised an eyebrow. "You gonna get in? You can't drive standing out here you know."

"You crazy son of a bitch, you can't just let people you don't know drive this car," she shook her head, amazed.

"Sure I can," he called, climbing in. "Now get in."

She blinked, then shrugged. "Whatever," she mumbled, then climbed in and sank into the leather of the bucket seat. She quickly fastened her safety harness and then turned on the car, grinning as the engine purred in response. Shifting into reverse, she smoothly pulled out of the parking space and followed Brian's Tropicana orange drop top out of the lot.

"What's your best time in this?" she asked curiously, glancing to her right.

He shrugged. "Haven't raced in it."

Lindsey frowned, surprised. "Why not?"

"I don't race often. I don't really have the motivation," he explained with a smirk. "And anyways, this straight quarter mile drag shit isn't my style."

She grinned. "You drift," she said, more of a statement than a question.

He looked at her. "Yeah. Do you?"

"Sometimes. I'm not any good at it," she giggled. "I pretty much just do it to show off," she admitted.

"That's pretty much the only reason anyone races, though, isn't it?" he asked thoughtfully.

"No," she disagreed, pulling the Honda up to a stoplight and angling her body to face him. "I race because it…" she paused, struggling to put her thoughts into words. "I love to drive fast. I love the control I have, and the adrenaline rush I get when I'm driving. The competition just adds to the rush," she explained. "I don't really do it to prove I'm better; I do it just to make driving that much more exciting, I guess. The money's not bad, either."

He nodded, remaining silent. "How long have you had this?" she asked, gesturing to the car as she pulled away from the light.

"'Bout a month," he replied. "I was rollin' in an RX-7 before this," he spoke fondly.

"Why'd you get rid of it?" she asked curiously.

He grinned sardonically. "It blew up."

Her eyes widened comically as she looked at him, shocked. "What?"

"In Japan," he explained. "I lived in Tokyo for about three years. Just got back six weeks ago."

"Tokyo?" Lindsey repeated. "That's a little random," she remarked offhandedly; not prying, but leaving the subject open. Han was impressed.

He smirked. "Not really. Kinda Japanese," he reminded mockingly.

She chuckled. "Hadn't noticed," she replied wryly, glaring at him playfully. "You're American."

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I just… wanted a change of scenery," he explained lightly.

"So you moved halfway around the world?" she questioned doubtfully. "That's probably why you came back, too, right? Wanted a change of scenery?"

He bobbed an eyebrow and shrugged evasively. "And I didn't have a car anymore."

She laughed in disbelief. "You're full of shit," she told him, carefully navigating the car through the crowds of people milling around in the street. They had arrived at the races.

"Maybe I'll tell you the story one day," he said, leaning his head against the headrest and looking at her as she parked between Brian and Dom. "If you're lucky."

She snickered. "Never mind," she replied sassily. "I don't wanna hear it anymore."

He made a dismissive sound. "Yeah you do," he leveled her with an arrogant look, then opened the door and climbed out of the car.

Lindsey sat there for a moment, shaking her head at his cockiness, then rolled her eyes and pulled the keys out of the ignition. Stepping out of the car, she easily made her way to stand with Han, her brother, and Dominic, surveying the patrons of the races as she moved. Modded cars, booming music, scantily clad women as far as the eye could see… It was a pretty standard scene, as far as she was concerned.

Naturally, given her position, she was currently being glared at by a majority of aforementioned scantily clad women. She was an unfamiliar face, and she had most of the guys' attention, as well. They all wanted to know who had just pulled up in Han Thomas' car.

Moments after they arrived, a Hispanic guy made his way over to Dom, shaking his hand and greeting him exuberantly. "Hey, brother, what's good?"

"Hector, my man," Dom replied, genuinely happy to see the guy. "What's on the agenda?"

"You racing tonight?" Hector assumed.

Dom nodded. "Yeah, later. I'm looking for one of my team, though," he explained. "Find some cocky kid with a decent car willing to put up pinks."

"Oh, a'ight, a'ight," Hector replied. "I can do that. Gimme a minute," he replied, casually backing up and threading through the people gathering in the area. Word spread through the place like wildfire that a member of the Toretto team wanted to race for pinks, and a few minutes later Hector returned. "Got a couple choices for you," he revealed. "Fully kitted Supra or RX-8. Both young kids, new drivers. Seen 'em both race before, and they're nothing amazing."

Dom looked at Lindsey. "Your call."

"RX-8," she replied confidently.

Hector's jaw dropped. "You're the one who's racing?" he asked, his eyes traveling over her petite frame incredulously.

"Yeah," she drawled. "Why?'

Hector shrugged. "Just surprised. I'll go let the kid know. You ready?"

She nodded. "Yes," she replied simply. "I'll meet him at the line."

"A'ight," Hector agreed, walking away.

Brian looked worried. "Okay, whatever you do, don't hit your NOS too early. That's the biggest downfall in racing; the driver panics and wants the advantage too early. And make sure you don't-"

"Brian," Lindsey cut in calmly. "Shut up. You're making me nervous."

"Okay," he replied quickly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Just be careful. Good luck," he wished her.

Dom nodded at her as he sauntered toward the team, stopping to talk to a few people on the way. That left Lindsey and Han alone. He was standing a few inches away, facing her. She noticed the muscles in his jaw work as he smirked and felt a smirk of her own growing on her face. He stepped a little bit closer to her, and she looked up at him expectantly; he was a lot taller than her.

"Don't lose my car," he ordered seriously.

She grinned. "I won't. Relax."

"I am relaxed," he countered easily. "I'm only tellin' you as a favor. If you do lose it, you have to replace it," he continued.

"Don't worry bout it," she replied, watching a candy painted lime green RX-8 approaching the starting line. People were gathering up and down the street, and the Toretto team was slowly making their way down to the endpoint of the race. "Looks like I gotta go," she said slowly.

He nodded and handed her the keys to his NSX-R again, then walked away. She watched him go for a minute, once again intrigued by his enigmatical behavior, but quickly pulled herself out of her reverie and jumped in the car. Gunning the engine and turning up the sound system, she smoothly made her way to the starting line.

Outside, people began buzzing about the challenger in Han Thomas' car. He didn't race; everyone knew that, plus he was standing with his team. Who was in that car?

Lindsey smirked as one of the racer chasers strutted into the street, standing directly between the cars a few feet ahead. The girl, dressed in a pair of booty shorts and a bikini top, lifted her arms. Lindsey took her standard calming breath, shifting and preparing to move. The bass line thumped behind her, sending reverberations through her chest. She revved her engine again, and the car shuddered beneath her, almost like an animal anxious to move. The flag girl shimmied one last time, then brought her hands down with a grin. Lindsey's tires squealed as she lit it up.

The kid in the RX-8 wasn't a bad racer. He kept her easy, steadily accelerating pace without too much difficulty, and Lindsey was glad he was able to keep his car on the other side of the line. However, his mechanic work was no match for the NSX-R Lindsey was working with, and she quickly began to pull ahead.

As they passed the halfway mark, she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the guy's face set in a mask of uncertainty. Seconds later, he activated his NOS and shot past her, a triumphant grin on his face. Lindsey giggled a little, waiting a few more heartbeats before shifting once more and pressing the small red button on the steering wheel. Her body was thrown back into the leather seat as the car was propelled forward at a breakneck speed, easily passing her opponent. Lindsey's eyes widened as the speedometer in the dash passed 140 miles per hour.

The group at the end of the race watched the NSX-R travel by in a blur and finally begin to decelerate after a few seconds. The RX-8 followed after a while, the guy obviously cussing up a storm. Leon whistled lowly. "Han, what the hell you got in that thing?"

He was watching his car closely, his head angled to get a better view. "Right now a little blonde thing," he replied interestedly.

"She's got good instincts," Dom continued on Han's point. "Her shifting and acceleration were perfect, and she didn't rush anything."

"We call that timing, Dom," Letty jumped in sarcastically. He glared at her, playfully grabbing her. She rolled her eyes but stayed leaning against him.

"She's good, Brian," Dom finished. "We could make some damn good money off her."

"That RX-8's gonna need some work, though," Han pointed out.

"You can help her with it," Dom suggested. "Jesse can work something out on the computer tomorrow and you two can put the parts on my tab at Harry's. I want her racing asap."

Han nodded, and Brian cut in. "You know it only makes sense that she's good. She's my sister."

Dom looked at him doubtfully, and Vince snickered. "Right," V said. "You forget we've seen you race, bustah."

The group laughed a little, but quieted as Lindsey navigated the NSX-R back to her previous parking spot. As she climbed out of the car, the team cheered enthusiastically. The quickly gathering crowd remained silent for a few seconds when they realized Lindsey was the driver, but then joined in after a moment. Han smirked in amusement, understanding where they were coming from. She was hot, and it wasn't every day a girl so attractive could drive like that.

Han remained leaning against Brian's car as the rest of the team rushed to meet her, and a few minutes later she made her way over to him, his keys dangling from her hand. He lazily stretched a palm out, and she stopped inches away from him, dropping them into his grip.

"Told you I wouldn't lose it," she told him, flashing him a hundred watt grin.

He grinned down at her, amused. "Yeah, you did."

"So Dom said you're gonna help me work on the RX-8," she said. "I want it to run like your car."

"We'll see," he responded vaguely. "Can't give away all my secrets."

She grinned again. "Of course not."

"I'll give you a ride to the garage tomorrow at noon," he said, smirking. "I'll meet you at the car."

"Fine," she replied. "I might be there," she added coyly, running a hand through her long blonde hair as she turned around to leave.

He let her walk a few steps, then called out to her. "Oh, and Lindsey?"

"Yeah?" she asked, facing him.

Han dragged his eyes from her stiletto boots and shapely thighs, over her little denim skirt and tight black tank top that showed hints of tight, tanned skin, and raised an eyebrow. "You might wanna wear something that can get a little… dirty," he proposed suggestively.

She sucked her bottom lip in her mouth, releasing it as an involuntary grin spread across her face. "That's okay; I like it dirty," she teased.

-X-

That night, Han arrived at his apartment shortly after four in the morning. Tossing his keys on the kitchen counter, he stopped to press the play button on the answering machine that fed straight from his voicemail.

"Hey Han," Sean Boswell's thick accent poured into the room. Han grinned, laughing lightly as the country boy continued. "Just callin' to check in. Garage is still standin', and Twink hasn't managed to blow anything up recently. Hope you're doin' alright. Gimme a holler when you get a chance, man."

With a beep, Han erased the message, leaving him alone to wallow in his thoughts.

Tokyo was his escape.

He had so much in common with the city that he barely even considered another option when he chose to move there three years ago. He took to Tokyo naturally; his talent for business and his street sense translated well into the drifting scene, and when Takashi recruited him only days after he arrived, he jumped at the opportunity to get ahead.

For a while, it was as perfect as Han ever thought his life would be. As time went on, however, he got sick of the profit of his hard work being split between himself and two outside parties. Takashi may have been okay with the Yakuza getting half the money, but Han wasn't; that wasn't how things worked back in L.A. So he branched out. Started his own company, you could say. And that was when things went to shit.

After he dragged himself out of his precious RX-7 moments before it blew to high heaven, he started thinking. Tokyo may be his Mexico, but it would never be his home. That title was reserved for Los Angeles. So, he packed it up. He transferred his bank accounts back to America, left the garage in Sean's care, shipped his boxes overseas, and caught the first flight into LAX.

His first order of business back home was to get an apartment, and the second was to look up the man who owned the streets of southern California. Dominic Toretto was his mentor; the man who taught him how to use his passion for cars to make money, and lots of it. Dom was the only person, other than his mother, that was ever interested in keeping him out of trouble. Being a part of the Toretto team before Dom went to Lompoc taught him a lot, especially about the company he kept. Friends are family- forever.

He ran with Dom now, just like in the old days, before Japan.

And so far, his past hadn't caught up with him…

But each day he wondered when his luck was gonna run out.

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews and all of the story alert adds! Appreciate them all, they're encouraging! Please leave more feedback!_


	3. Wanted Dead or Alive

_Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews! I really appreciate them, and I'm glad this story is being responded to positively. It's a lot of fun to write! I just hope it doesn't get too confusing._

* * *

The stereo at DT's garage was blasting music over the constant humming of the large fans set up at every work station. The southern California sun was shining brightly, and temperatures had risen well above ninety degrees earlier that afternoon. Letty, Jesse, and Vince had taken off about an hour ago, after Dom became fed up with their constant bitching. Only Brian, Han, Lindsey, and the King of the Streets himself were left, sequestered in the garage.

Dom was at his usual lift, working on a Mercedes, and Brian was at the next lift, checking over his work on a Nissan. The new RX-8 was set up in the very back of the shop, currently parked on the ground. A few car parts were pulled out, laying on a tarp behind the bumper. Han was currently under the car checking over the exhaust system, and Lindsey was leaning under the hood, reinstalling the intake manifold.

Suddenly, Han rolled out from under the car quickly and stood up. Sensing he was coming to check something under the hood, Lindsey stepped back, pulling her hair up in her hands to cool off her neck. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Havin problems with the turbo back, not sure if it's workin right. I want to get the fuel injector in before I finish it."

She nodded. "Need a break?" she surmised.

"Yeah, it's kind of pissin me off," he confirmed with a smirk.

"Aw, are you frustrated?" she simpered, blinking up at him teasingly.

He smirked, staying silent. Lindsey was running around in a pair of tiny denim shorts and a black, spaghetti string tank top, and he was frustrated alright. Her tanned skin was glistening with a sheen of moisture, and these little droplets kept slipping down and drawing his attention to her breasts instead of his work. And she smelled really good…

Jailbait, he reminded himself silently, forcing his thoughts to return to the engine. No woman had ever rattled him before, and he wasn't about to give up his control over a seventeen year old garage monkey. Even if she is a hot blonde, he allowed, raking a hand through his hair.

"You could say that," he finally replied vaguely. Leaning under the hood again, he continued. "You do good work."

"Thanks," she responded, grinning. "I learned from the best."

He raised a brow. "Who's that? Brian?" he asked sarcastically.

She laughed. "Nah, my parents. Mostly my mom," she shrugged. "She worked at a garage when Brian and I were little, and we were there a lot."

He nodded. "What bout your dad?" he questioned, seeming genuinely interested.

"He works construction," she replied, taking a deep breath and choosing her words carefully. "We were always closer to our mom. She's where we got our wild streaks from," she explained, raising her eyebrows and grinning. "My dad was more strict. He and Brian used to go around so much…" she remembered fondly. "Especially around Brian's fourteenth birthday when he started racing."

"Do you and your dad have problems?" Han responded.

She grinned. "Not really. After my mom died and Brian moved away, he kind of lost interest in the whole family thing. He didn't pay too much attention to me, so I started doing my own thing."

He nodded. "Cars."

"Among other things," she shrugged, looking distant. "I mean, I've been in some trouble," she said thoughtfully. "He definitely decided to pay attention when I got caught."

He raised an eyebrow. "What were you into?"

She glanced at him as she crashed back to reality, realizing she'd revealed too much about herself. Sending him a secretive smile, she said, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"Oh," he backed away, hands up. She giggled, and he asked, "And why is that?"

"Because," she whispered slyly. "Brian doesn't know any of it, and I want to keep him off my ass," she said lightly.

Han could tell there was more to the story. She intrigued him; she managed to maintain just a hint of mystery, so he wasn't sure what to make of her just yet.

He tilted his head and made an accepting, although still nonchalant face. "Good reason."

She smiled. "What about you?" she asked. "Who taught you about cars?" she asked, grabbing two bottled waters and holding one out to him. He took it, and she took a seat on a folding chair by the tool chest.

"My dad got me started on them, but he took off when I was ten," he said, leaning against the car in front of her. "I kept hanging around garages though, and in high school I hooked up with some guys that were into cars. Eventually met Dom. I was a hotshot, thought I knew everything, and he gave me a reality check," he revealed with a grin. "Ran with the crew for a while, then headed over to Japan after Dom got sent to Lompoc," he finished.

"You make it sound _so_ simple," she commented with a grin. "I bet there's more to it."

He raised a brow. _Kind of like with your story_, he thought. Finally, he shrugged. "Details are irrelevant, if you think about it. I ended up here, and that's what matters. Better to leave the past behind me," he concluded maturely.

She tilted her head, examining him closely. "How old are you?"

He raised a brow, a little surprised by the question. "Twenty-four," he answered. "You're seventeen," he added, more a statement than a question. She was mature for her age; it was easy for him to forget. Part of him wondered if she only acted like a badass, however, and didn't really have the heart.

She nodded. "Until January," she confirmed. "Can't wait."

"You goin back home?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," she replied thoughtfully. "Guess we'll find out."

Suddenly, the mood was interrupted by Dom slamming the hood of the Mercedes closed. "Ay, you two, I'm not paying you to sit on your asses and talk all day."

Han flipped him off as Lindsey stood up, laughing and reaching for her wrench again. Dom had a point; there was a lot of work to be done.

-X-

Later that evening, Lindsey exited the Toretto's back door and made her way into the yard, a large bowl of tossed salad in her arms. Mia was following her with the potato salad, laughing and joking with Letty. The temperature had cooled down considerably as the sun moved further west, and a light breeze helped make things more comfortable outside. The boys were all in the backyard gathered around the table, with the exception of Dominic, who was manning the grill, and Han, who was absent.

Lindsey placed the bowl on the table in front of Leon, who growled with hunger and said "Now that's what I'm talkin about!"

The crew dissolved into light laughter at his antics, and he raised an incredulous eyebrow. "What? I got a hot chick servin me good food. This is a dream come true!"

She snickered and shook her head, but before she could reply a familiar, deep voice called out, "And you wonder why you ain't got a girl, Leon."

Lindsey turned around to watch Han lazily make his way across the grass, grinning slightly as Leon replied, "Oh shut the fuck up, Asian man. I got more girls than I know what to do with."

She smirked, suspecting that Leon's comment was true for all of the guys around the table. Rolling her eyes, she took a seat between an empty chair and Leon, across from Letty, Mia, and Brian. Han greeted the team and grabbed a Corona, falling gracefully into the seat next to her moments later. He took a long swig of his beer and raised his eyebrows at her. He was sitting beside Dom, who was at the head of the table. Vince and Jesse were seated at the opposite end, talking about the UFC fight that would air later that night.

"Asian man? Honestly?" Lindsey asked incredulously, surprised by the corny factor in the nickname.

He shrugged, grinning. "I have no idea," he replied ambiguously. "I humor him."

She smiled. "Oh, right," she agreed sarcastically. "What took you so long?" she asked, referring to his absence from the cookout, which had began about an hour ago.

He pursed his lips. "Got caught up. Saw an old friend."

"Really?" she asked. "Anybody I know?"

"Seriously doubt it," he grinned.

"Alright, shut the hell up!" Dom boomed. Han rolled his eyes, but obligingly turned his attention to the head of the table after sending her a quick wink.

The chatter around the table died down. "Who wants to say grace?"

-X-

Later that night, the team rolled into the races in a solid V formation, each car spotlessly clean and blasting music. Brian had finally traded his Camaro in for a modded navy Supra from Dom's garage, and he was looking forward to testing it out and making some money.

Lindsey was once again riding in Han's NSX-R, this time in the passenger's seat. Dominic seemed pretty interested in keeping them together; he seemed to think they complimented each other well. Tonight, Han's assignment was to keep her out of trouble while Brian raced.

Han rolled down the crowded street behind Dom, maneuvering his two-toned vehicle expertly and slamming on the brakes at the last second as he parked. Lindsey smirked, noticing the race skanks gathering in the distance, their attention firmly focused on the car, their faces all set in hopeful expressions. Waiting a few seconds after Han exited the car, she opened the passenger's side door and climbed out.

The jealous glares and curious stares of the chasers didn't go unnoticed, and Lindsey met them all with a steely glare. She wasn't pushed around easily, and these bitches weren't going to scare her away.

Han glanced over at her after a moment, realizing she hadn't made a move to join the team yet. Detecting the root of the problem almost immediately, he walked around the NSX-R and stopped a few centimeters to her left, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Looks like you made some friends."

Lindsey cast her gaze in his direction, raising an eyebrow. "How could you tell?" she replied sarcastically.

He grinned. "Don't even worry about them," he dismissed casually. "They're pissed because you're rollin with us."

"Here I was thinkin' they hate me because I'm hotter than them," she joked, batting her eyelashes dramatically.

He chuckled, giving her a quick once over. Her words were more true than she knew. She was wearing a short, spaghetti strap dress patterned with thick, diagonal white and black stripes. The low cut fabric tied over her chest, hugging her breasts and accentuating her cleavage, then hugged her torso and hips tightly, finally flaring out over the tops of her thighs at the hem. Fishnets covered her legs and her signature knee high leather boots completed her outfit. Her blonde hair was loose and full, reaching nearly to her elbows, and her beautiful blue eyes were rimmed with a harsh line of black, drawing attention to them.

"Yeah, that too," he agreed nonchalantly, bobbing an eyebrow. She grinned as she watched him step a little closer to her, reaching out a hand and placing it on the small of her back. He guided her toward the rest of the team, saying "Now ignore the haters and get over here so I can start educating you."

They stopped walking when they reached Dom's car, which Han lazily leaned against, facing her. She put her right hand on her hip, then started playing with the charm on her necklace with her left. "Promise to be a good teacher?" she asked suggestively, smirking and meeting his gaze challengingly.

He grinned. "The best," he vowed arrogantly, smirking right back.

She laughed lightly, breaking his stare, then turned and leaned on the car next to him. "So what are you schoolin me on, Mr. Thomas?" she asked animatedly, tilting her head to look up at him through the corner of her eye.

"Dom said something about lettin you know who's cool and who's not," Han replied uninterestedly. "That's not too hard to separate, though," he shrugged. "Everybody here respects the hell out of the team, mostly because they know we're not afraid to shoot a bitch up if there's a problem," he explained bluntly. "So lesson number one; Hector rolls with good people. Edwin rolls with good people," he nodded at the two groups of people. "Most others are alright too, but we usually stay clear of them. There are only two groups that really cause trouble."

"Who?" Lindsey asked curiously.

"The Trans," he responded seriously, nodding to a group of Asians. "Johnny Tran, the guy that used to run shit over there, and his cousin Lance are in prison for shooting Jesse in a drive by earlier this year."

Lindsey gaped at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Now their cousin Ken's taken over. He's an asshole. Grew up in Japan, used to run with the Yakuza," he revealed. "He doesn't have anything to do with us, though."

She nodded. "Okay, no mixing with the Tran team. Who else?"

He glanced at her. "Enrique Gaines' people. They run drugs, they're involved with the Trans… Bad news," Han replied simply, his eyes lingering on the Cuban man and his crew. He didn't like the way Gaines' eyes were straying toward Lindsey every few minutes.

"Alright," she agreed easily, noticing his tense behavior. "Lesson over?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "So now all you have to do is promise to stay away from them."

She smirked. "I don't like it when people tell me what to do," she shook her head slowly. "You're asking a lot here."

"But it's for your own good," he bargained, smirking. "Do what you want, but I'm telling you right now you don't wanna get mixed up with them."

Lindsey grinned. "Okay," she conceded finally. "I won't. Anything else you wanna teach me?" she questioned flirtatiously, bumping his shoulder with her own.

He chuckled. "Not today," he answered. "But you're an excellent student."

"Or so I've been told," she replied, smirking. "I'm a quick learner, too."

Han grinned, but was interrupted before he could reply. "Ay!" Leon called to them, catching their attention. "Brian's bout to race."

The pair moved toward the rest of the team, who was gathering around Brian, Hector, and a guy whose back was turned to them. They moved closer, catching the tail end of the conversation.

"Aight," Hector said. "Three G buy in, winner takes all," he set the rules simply.

Brian handed him the money, remaining silent, and the other guy fished a roll of bills out of his pocket. Lindsey got a better look as he angled in her direction, and gasped as the familiar bleached blonde hair and slightly pinched face registered in her mind.

Pushing her way through Leon and Jesse and grabbing her brother's arm, she yanked him to face her. "You can't race him," she ordered sternly.

Brian looked at her, confused. "Why not?"

"Because he's the one that made me flip my car," she shot back. "He's dangerous."

Brian looked shocked, but Lindsey was more surprised to see the fleeting panic show on his face. "Okay, then," he granted quickly. "Go stand with Han, now," he ordered, giving her a slight shove.

She backed up, and Dom instinctively blocked the other racer's vision of her. Han slipped an arm around her waist and steered her back to the cars, sensing that there was a problem. "What's going on?" he asked.

She shrugged, confusion evident on her face. "I think Brian's just being overprotective again. That's the guy I was racing when I flipped my car," she explained.

Han glanced over her head, noticing Brian rushing toward them. "Here comes Brian," he informed her, tilting his chin up in a greeting to the blonde guy.

"Hey, Han, do me a favor and get her out of here," Brian requested.

Han nodded, but Lindsey raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Brian frowned, frustrated. "Look, I'll explain later, but you need to head out."

"What's going on, Brian?" she questioned again, firmly.

"That guy? His name's Johnny Adams, and he runs shit for Enrique Gaines. He thinks you owe him money, and he's not the type to just accept a few Gs and move on, okay?" Brian bit out irritably.

"Wait, is that why I'm here?" Lindsey asked, kind of alarmed.

"Yes!" Brian exclaimed. "It was stupid of me to let you come to the races, so get out of here!" he cried. "I'll talk to you back at the fort."

He turned abruptly and walked back to the team, Hector, and Johnny, who had called a friend over to join the discussion. Though the crowds of milling people, Han caught sight of Gaines, who was leaning against his car and staring at Lindsey once again. Shaking his head and sighing with frustration, Han guided Lindsey around the car and to the passenger's side door.

She hesitated before she climbed in, and he looked down at her. "Look," he said. "I told Brian I'd get you out of here, so I'm goin to. Gaines is starting to figure out who you are, I think, so we need to leave."

Sighing, Lindsey replied, "Fine, okay?" and climbed in the car.

Han shut the door after her, casually walking around to the driver's side door. As he placed his hand on the handle, however, Enrique Gaines appeared inches in front of his face.

"Ay, Han, how you been, man?" Gaines asked, sending him a crooked grin.

Han shrugged. "Same as I was earlier today, Enrique. What you want?"

Gaines dismissed his question. "Nothin really."

"I told you, I'm not interested in coming back to the business, okay?" Han asked tersely. "So you can forget where you've seen me."

Gaines smirked. "You'll change your mind. I'm not worried about it," he remarked. "As soon as Toretto can't keep your pockets filled like you're used to. You know, you're lucky I'm the one that took over. If Darren was still around, your ass would be dead by now," he said seriously. "But you're more use to me alive than dead, and I believe in second chances."

Han grinned grimly. "I believe you're wasting your time," he replied firmly.

"Who you got in the car?" Gaines questioned seriously, losing his easygoing façade.

"Just a girl," Han answered vaguely.

"Really?" Gaines responded. "Heard the girl that's been rollin' with you lit it up yesterday night, in your car."

"Yeah, I let her borrow it," he shrugged.

"Where she from?" Gaines inquired curiously.

"Miami," Han replied instantly. "What's it matter to you?"

"Just interested," he shrugged. "Hot little blonde thing," he continued with a lewd grin. "You know. Which is surprising, cause used to be you'd never touch any bitch who wasn't older than you."

Han cocked his head. "Things change."

"Hell yeah they do," he agreed.

"I've changed," Han said finally. "So you should move on."

Finally, Gaines dropped the charade and pinned him with a cold glare. "You haven't changed, at all, Thomas. Cut the bullshit," he ordered, stepping closer to Han. "You and I both know the girl in your car ain't your bitch."

"So?" Han replied coolly.

"So I know her," Gaines explained. "A hell of a lot better than you do. I'ono why you're protecting her, but your steppin on the wrong side of the line."

"What you talking about, Gaines?" Han questioned fiercely. "What's she to you?"

Gaines backed up, shaking his head and grinning sardonically. "She ain't nothin to me, brotha," he replied. "Now you run along and hide her from me," he said. "We'll find her."

Han shook his head. "She's seventeen, Enrique. What the hell do you need to take care of her for?"

Gaines just kept walking away, but paused for a second and turned to face Han. "Just let your girl know that none of this shit was a coincidence. She's marked, and there's only two ways for this to end; she comes back and helps get us what she lost us, or she goes home in a body bag."

-X-

Han climbed in the NSX-R, where Lindsey was impatiently tapping her fingers on the armrest, watching him. He started the engine and easily moved through the crowd, speeding away from the races, in the opposite direction of the fort.

Continuing at a breakneck speed, he drifted around corners and navigated his way through the warehouse district expertly. Finally, he skid to a stop dramatically. Lindsey surveyed their surroundings through the window; immediately before the car was a fence, separating the street from a vast expanse of water. Rolling fog rose from the ocean and into the night air around them, and not a person was in sight. She placed the scene as a loading dock.

"What's going on?" she asked, turning her body to face him.

"We need to talk," he replied, pinning his black eyes on her startling blue gaze.

-X-

_Hmm... Seems like everyone has a secret, now doesn't it? :)_

_Please review! I only like writing if I know someone's enjoying it!_


	4. Crazy ExGirlfriend

_Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews! You guys are awesommme! And btw, you should all check out Sons of Anarchy on FX, Wednesday nights at 10. It's excellent. :)_

* * *

After watching Han's taillights fade into the darkness as he and Lindsey drove away, Brian returned to the group of people gathering around Hector and Johnny. As Johnny noticed him approaching, he called out, "So we gonna do this?"

Brian looked at him coolly, then shook his head. "Naw, man, I'm gonna have to head out."

Disbelief flashed across Johnny's sallow face, but was quickly replaced with anger. "What the fuck? You put up two G's. This was your fuckin race."

Brian shrugged. "Sorry, dude. Something came up," he dismissed indifferently, backing away from the group and nodding to the team.

Brian began to turn, and Johnny yelled out, "Don't fucking walk away from me!"

Brian shook his head again, continuing to walk away. Dom stood up straighter, taking one look at Johnny's wide and bloodshot eyes and hearing warning sirens going off in his head. Johnny took one, two advancing steps toward Brian, pulling back his fist as he moved.

"Ay, Brian!" Dom shouted, nodding to Johnny as his buddy sent him a quick look.

Brian instantly whirled around, instinctively throwing an arm up to block the incoming blow. Johnny dropped low and rushed at Brian, throwing all of his weight into his shoulder and tackling the former cop to the ground. The two tussled on the pavement for a few moments as the crowd gathered around them, until Johnny gained the upper hand and clipped Brian's jaw forcefully.

Brian's eyes watered, distorting his vision. He almost missed the familiar glint of light reflecting off a silver blade in Johnny's right hand.

Mia let out a strangled cry when she spotted the knife, grabbing onto Dom's arm. "Dom, stop him!"

Johnny pulled the knife up and brought his arm down violently, plunging it toward Brian's stomach. Brian felt a burning sensation as the blade swiped through his thin gray tee shit, and he panicked. His hand surged upward, catching Johnny's wrist in a tight grip. Using strength he didn't know he had, he twisted Johnny's arm back, holding it at an unnatural angle. The peroxide blonde crack addict cried out in pain, letting the knife clatter to the ground, and Brian used his advantage to flip Johnny off of him. He stood up instantly, then pulled his shirt up to check the gouge on his stomach. Thankfully, it was only a flesh wound, and he let it go as Dom rushed to his side, reaching down and grabbing Johnny by his collar and hoisting him up.

"Look here motherfucker," Dom ground out, placing a large hand on Johnny's neck and squeezing. Hard. "You're fucking with the wrong people, but I'm a nice guy, so I'm gonna tell you what you're going to do," he said slowly and clearly. "You're gonna get your shit, and you're gonna get outta Echo Park. Next time I see you around here, you're gonna have to deal with me. And don't you even think about coming anywhere near one of mine. I'll make you wish you were never fuckin born."

Dom released him roughly, shoving him away. "Now leave, bitch."

Johnny smirked, rubbing his sore neck with one of his hands. "Whatever, man. You think you're so tough, huh? I got people that'll make you cry like a little girl," he shouted, backing away. "Watch yourself, Toretto. Your ass is mine," he warned, climbing into his car and speeding away.

The team gathered again near their cars, all looking a little shaken. "Well, that's where he's wrong," Letty commented offhandedly, looking at Dom. "Your ass is mine."

-X-

The cool night breeze whipped the water below in murky circles as Lindsey climbed up onto the fence, perching herself on the top rail under a streetlight. Han followed her slowly, crossing his arms and leaning them on the rail beside her. She was angled, half of her body facing the water, where her attention rested.

Finally, she looked at him closely. "What do you want to know?"

He sighed. "Enrique Gaines knows who you are," he explained. "And he said that all this shit that's happening to you? It's intentional. Someone's got it out for you. He said this'll only stop when they kill you or when you help them."

She gaped at him. "What?"

"Any idea what you did to piss Gaines and his people off?" Han asked, raising an eyebrow. "Cause I'm telling you; these guys are serious shit," he promised, looking her in the eyes.

She nodded slowly, not breaking his stare. "Yeah," she said softly. "I know."

He shook his head. "Wanna tell me what's up?"

"I told you already," she began. "I used to get in a lot of trouble. My mom worked at a garage called Mac's Mechanics… forever. She died when I was fourteen, and I took over her position. My dad and I were low on money, and we couldn't really pay the bills," she revealed slowly.

He nodded. "Okay."

"This guy, Will Harrison, worked at Mac's with me, and he was… pretty into me," she explained with a smirk. "He was nineteen, and hot, and had a really tight car," she shrugged. "So I went out with him."

"My mom had a Suzuki GSX650. It was her pride and joy, and she taught me how to ride it when I was like, eleven," she grinned. "And I was good. Will took me to the races one night with it, and I loved it. That's where I got in most of my trouble at. I've been pulled over for reckless endangerment like three times. Paid like, over 1,500 in tickets before I got my license. But I had a brother who was a cop and I made enough money to cover the electric bill for the rest of the year in one night," she mused. "So my dad kept pretty quiet, and I kept racing."

"You started out racing bikes?" Han questioned, a little surprised.

She nodded. "You think I can race cars?" she asked with a smirk. "Then you should see me on a motorcycle."

He smirked back. "We'll see."

"Anyway," Lindsey refocused her thoughts. "Will introduced me to a lot of people, and for a while he was a really great boyfriend. But he spent most of the time stoned," she rolled her eyes. "And eventually he started turning into a jackass. He started hanging out with these guys, and he changed. I guess that's where Gaines comes in?" she suggested.

"I don't remember meeting anybody named Enrique," she said, a furrowing her brow as she searched through her memories. "Will usually hung out with this guy named Ryan. They started running shit for some dude named Darren. I met him a couple times, he freaked the shit out of me," she mumbled, more to herself than Han. "They transported all kinds of shit. Mostly money at first, but eventually they were drivin drugs and weapons and stolen car parts and everything around for this guy. It probably wouldn't have bothered me so much if Will hadn't started _doing_ most of the drugs, and _carrying_ the guns, and _using_ the stolen parts," she clarified.

He nodded. "Understandable," he commented. "What kind of drugs?"

"I don't care about weed," she snickered. "I've smoked plenty. But meth and coke and shit? That's not cool. It makes you kinda crazy, and that's how Will got. He ran through all the money he made from Darren when he bought drugs from him. He couldn't pay his bills. So he stole from me," she revealed grimly.

Han glanced at her sharply. "That's bullshit."

"I thought so," she replied, grinning. "But he was kind of stupid. He told me about all the runs and shit he made, and half the time he let me ride along. So one night, I parked my bike pretty close to where he was dropping off a shipment. He and the guy he was delivering to stopped to smoke some crack in one of their cars, and just left the money sitting right there. Two briefcases full of twenties. So I picked one of them up and took off, then called the cops and told them what was going down."

Han's jaw dropped. "You did what?"

She shrugged. "Will owed me, and at the time that money was in his possession. Technically _he _owes them… Darren I guess? Anyway, Will owes them money, not me. And to this day Will thinks the police just happened upon him," she explained. "I don't understand how they figured out it was me that ratted Will out. And I don't know if they know I took that money."

Han stood stoically, leaning his weight against the railing, and remained silent for a few moments. Finally, he spoke. "That's not good."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Figuring that out."

"You know I have to tell Dom and Brian about this?" he asked. "We need to come up with some kind of solution to this…"

"Clusterfuck?" she supplied, tilting her head.

He smirked, chuckling lightly. "Yeah, that'll work."

She shrugged seriously. "I guess I don't have much of a choice."

"You don't," he replied gravely. "Against anybody else, I'd admire your balls, but with these people?"

"I know," she responded, looking at him closely. "You talk like you know a lot about them," she commented.

"I do," he said simply, straightening up. "We should probably head back to the fort and see what's up," he suggested, pulling his keys out of his pocket. "Let's go."

-X-

That night, Dom, Brian, and Han were seated around the kitchen table in Han's apartment, drinking Coronas and discussing the current predicament. Lindsey was in her own apartment across the hall, watching TV.

"I don't know what to do," Brian concluded finally, sighing heavily and looking around the table.

Dom nodded, understanding his frustration. "I wish I could be more help, but I don't know these people very well."

Han studied them both closely, then sighed, interrupting. "We need to find out what they think she owes them," he shrugged. "The only way to get them off this is to get them their money."

"Why can't they just let it go?" Brian cried out, running a hand through his hair irritably.

"Because," Han answered slowly. "Money is all these people care about."

"So, we just let her go talk to them?" Brian countered. "That sounds like a fuckin pile of shit waiting to happen…"

Han shook his head, adamantly answering, "_No_, she can't."

Dom was watching the interaction with deep interest, eyebrow raised. His focus was mainly on Han, and the Asian was beginning to notice. Finally, Dom cut in. "Han could go."

Han closed his eyes, cursing under his breath. Brian frowned. "No, that's not necessary," Brian replied. "I'll go."

Han snickered. "Oh yeah, that'll work. Ex-cop bustin up in their business? I don't think so," he refused. "I'll do it. I know how to handle these people."

Brian shook his head. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not," Han replied instantly. "I'm offering, alright?"

Han stood abruptly, reaching into a drawer near the stove and pulling out a small box and something Brian couldn't make out. He lifted his chin up at the pair remaining at the table, then crossed the living room quickly, pulling open the sliding glass door and stepping out onto the balcony.

Brian looked back at Dom. "I don't know about this, man."

"Don't worry about it," Dom dismissed. "He knows it's the best decision and he wouldn't have it any other way. It just brings up some uncomfortable situations for him."

Brian nodded. "Alright, whatever," he conceded, standing. "I'm headin back to my place. Wanna grab another beer?"

Dom shook his head. "Naw, man, I'm on my way back to the fort. I'll catch you tomorrow at work."

Brian made his way out of the apartment, and Dom stood as well. Instead of moving toward the door, however, he followed Han and stepped out onto the balcony. The Asian man was standing, back leaning against the brick wall bordering the sliding glass door, and casually smoking a Black n Mild.

Dom snickered. "Thought you quit that shit."

Han shrugged, inhaling the cigarette again. "Kind of."

Dom moved closer to the edge of the balcony, placing his hands on the railing. "You know you don't have to do this? You don't owe anybody, and it's gonna get you in some shit you've done good to leave behind."

Han nodded calmly. "I know. It's the only way to get this girl away from them though," he said distantly. "She can get her shit together before she fucks everything up like I did."

Dom frowned. "It's gonna be hard for you to be around that activity without wanting a piece of the action, Han."

"Yeah," Han replied simply.

Dom studied him. "You think she's worth it," he commented.

Han shrugged. "I don't know her."

"But what you do know of her," Dom countered smoothly. "You think she's worth the risk."

Han remained silent for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I think it's not as big of a risk as you believe it is," he remarked. "I've been on the wrong side of a gun a few too many times now. Ready to settle down a little," he continued seriously.

Dom snickered. "White picket fence, 2.5 brats, and a Chihuahua named Pedro?"

Han smirked. "Hell no," he replied. "Just ready to commit misdemeanors instead of felonies," he clarified with a grin. He returned to his seriousness in a heartbeat, however, as he continued. "And I don't know Lindsey well, but she's…" he paused. "She's dynamic. And I know the only way to help her from getting in too deep is to pull her out myself."

Dom winced. "I think I've made you babysit her too much."

"Nah," Han denied. "She needs some… educating," he finished with a grin. Taking one last draw from his Black, he put it out against the brick wall and tossed it over the railing. "Want another beer?"

"No," Dom replied. "I'm headin out. You should get some rest," he advised. "You got a big couple of days coming up."

-X-

The next morning, Han was locking his apartment up behind him when the O'Connor's door swung open. He pocketed his keys as he finished, then turned around to see Lindsey leaning against the door casing. As his eyes traveled down her frame, he raised an eyebrow, and his mouth formed a smirk.

"Good morning, Britney," he greeted sardonically.

She glared, glancing down at her pleated uniform skirt, which was thankfully acceptably short, and the fitted white button down she'd left untucked. The uniform was completed with a pair of knee socks and black Mary Jane shoes.

Lindsey pouted. "Shut. Up."

He smirked. "School?"

She rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately."

"Brian taking you?" he asked.

She frowned. "Again, unfortunately."

He grinned. "I'll drop you off."

"You don't have to," she replied, surprised.

He shrugged, but remained silent. "I guess if you don't mind," she responded slowly. "We should talk anyway."

"Oh, never mind," he shook his head. "I don't want to give you a ride anymore," he continued, grinning and turning to walk down the hall.

"Shut up!" she said again.

"I'll meet you at the car," he called back, descending the stairs as she went back into her apartment.

A few minutes later, Lindsey climbed into the passenger's seat of his NSX-R and he peeled away from the curb. They remained silent as he navigated the streets for a few minutes, until finally Lindsey spoke.

"You don't have to do it, you know," she remarked.

Han smirked. "What, drive you to school? I'll let you out here and you can walk the rest of the way."

"Ha ha," she replied, rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know."

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed. "I know I don't have to, but I'm gonna anyway."

"Why?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Need some excitement," he responded. "Shit's getting boring."

She shook her head, but didn't press the issue. "Well, then thanks I guess," she said offhandedly.

He nodded as he pulled into the crowded high school parking lot, catching the attention of every student gathered around their cars. Their eyes remained glued to the impressive black Honda sports car, waiting to see who climbed out.

"Looks like you're making quite an entrance," he commented, nodding to the waiting crowd.

She grinned. "Yeah, well, that's how I roll," she shrugged. He smirked, and she continued. "We have to finish my car pretty soon so I can drive myself, though. Don't want these assholes thinking I can't drive a badass car on my own, you know."

He nodded his agreement. "What time does this shit end?"

"What, school?" she asked, and he nodded. "Two fifty."

He nodded. "I'll pick you up at three."

_Please let me know what you think! Review! _

_And hmm... How does Han know all about Lindsey's predicament??_


	5. Closer

__

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long for me to update! This chapter is super long, and it was difficult to write. I don't know why but I wrote like three different versions and compiled them into one. I think it's because the entire situation is at such a volatile state, both with the outstanding debt and Han and Lindsey's relationship. I worked hard on this one, let me know what you think!!

* * *

Han leaned against his car casually, bathed in the shadows of the night sky as he lazily finished his cigarette. Exhaling a cloud of smoke slowly, he pushed himself off the car and stepped into the well-lit main area of the parking lot he was in. He easily, unhurriedly made his way toward the large building looming in the distance. He hadn't been inside in years, and he'd sworn he wouldn't go back. Then again, he mused, he'd also said he would never smoke again.

Pushing down the slight stab of anxiety he felt as he stepped onto the curb outside the building, Han passed the line of people assembled behind a black velvet rope. Coolly, he slid his hands into the pocket of his black velour hooded sweatshirt, approaching the large bouncer at the door arrogantly.

The bouncer's eyes narrowed instantly when he spotted Han, but he moved aside just the same, remaining silent. As Han stepped through the large, plate glass doors however, he saw the bouncer's reflection in the window as the big man pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

As the door swung shut behind him, he was met with a familiar scene. Loud hip-hop music blasted from huge, hidden speakers as people milled around, sipping from colorful concoctions and beer bottles. Cage dancers were lifted over the crowd in Plexiglas boxes mounted in the center of the dance floor, and colorful lights flashed brilliantly through the club.

Han skirted around the crowd, easily avoiding the alcohol consuming patrons, and slipped up an unassuming set of standard industrial metal stairs off to the side of the bar. As he reached the loft at the top, he saw a woman waiting for him, looking over the railing of the loft at the people below. She was tall, tan, and crammed into a pair of tiny shorts and a top that barely covered her large, silicone enhanced chest. She turned toward him, tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulder and pinning her dark brown eyes on his face.

"Please follow me, Mr. Thomas," she requested formally, turning on her platform stilettos with a five inch spiked heel and walking further down the narrow, catwalk-like loft. "Mr. Gaines has been expecting you."

She led him to the end of the catwalk to a door, which she knocked on three times. Another girl, similarly dressed with skin and eyes the color of cinnamon opened the door for them, and his hostess continued on. Han was familiar with this room, more commonly known as the VIP. He'd once spent a lot of time there.

Finally, after beckoning Han through a milling crowd of attractive, scantily clad women and rough looking men, the hostess stopped. She nodded at a plush white semicircular couch in the center of the room, but Han was already on his way there. Enrique Gaines was seated in the center with a Latina girl under each arm. He stood when he spotted Han, gesturing for the girls to leave.

"Figured you'd be back," Gaines smirked, running a hand over his bald head. "Couldn't stay away from a good setup."

Han shook his head slightly, almost imperceptibly, his gaze sliding over Gaines' shaven head, scruffy goatee, and tattooed neck. Enrique didn't look any different than he had five years ago, and in Han's opinion his attitude hadn't changed either. He was still a kid, a wannabe thug that would mix in with any shit necessary to feel powerful, and now he was involved with the meanest bastard in L.A. Go figure.

"Not exactly," Han replied finally. "But I have a deal you might be interested in."

Gaines furrowed his brow. "You ain't in, but you wanna make a deal with me?" he repeated incredulously, shaking his head. "You been around long enough to know that's not how it works, brotha."

Han nodded. "Yeah, you're right," he agreed. "Guess I'll just take my business elsewhere," he shrugged, taking a step back and preparing to turn around.

Predictably, Gaines took the bait. "Woah, man, hold up a second," he called. "Why don't you sit down and lemme know what's up first."

Han took the suggestion, arrogantly sinking into the comfortable cushions a couple feet away from Gaines. "You still have a… Japanese interest?" Han asked vaguely, studying Gaines carefully.

The Cuban nodded. "Yeah," he confirmed. "The Trans help us out a little, get us some cheap car parts every now and then. We use some, sell some. It's all good," he explained. "Send some nice American made chemistry over to some small players in Tokyo sometimes. Keeps the pockets lined, but you know that."

Han nodded, smirking. "Small time."

"Gotta start somewhere, brotha," Gaines reminded. "And we're international now, doesn't matter if it's big or small."

"Yeah," Han agreed uninterestedly. "But you want more."

"More's hard to get when you're across a fuckin ocean," Gaines shot back, leaning into his cushion.

Han nodded again, leaning forward and resting his weight on his thighs. "What if I could get you more?"

Gaines' eyes flickered with interest, his greedy tendency sparking at Han's words. "How?" he asked simply.

Han grinned. "I know people," he replied evasively.

Gaines wasn't deterred. "Yeah, me too. What kinda people?"

"People you don't wanna fuck with," Han explained. "People the Trans don't even play with anymore."

Gaines shook his head. "Bullshit."

"The Yakuza," Han finished finally, and Gaines shook his head.

"Man, stop playin," Gaines replied. "You don't have connections there."

"Where you think I been for the past three years, Gaines?" Han challenged. "I know plenty of Yakuza and have a whole team back in Tokyo. I could make it work with one call, and you could completely eliminate your connections with the Trans."

"No shit?" Gaines replied, becoming more convinced as Han spoke. "What's in it for you?"

A slow, lazy smirk passed over Han's face. "I get this set up," he suggested. "I start makin you massive amounts of money. You use my people to get it started. Once it takes off, we're out, and you stay the hell away from me and the people I run with," he stated his conditions. "Specifically the little blonde girl you're after."

Gaines shook his head, laughing humorlessly. "All that for this bitch?"

"What's it to you?" Han asked. "Doesn't matter the reason. All that's important is that this is an offer you can't refuse."

Gaines sighed. "Look," he said. "I run this shit and all, but I don't make all the decisions. I'll run it by the boss," he shrugged. "And I'll run letting the girl off with the guys. We'll see what I can make happen."

Han shrugged. "Fair enough," he replied.

"But," Gaines cut in. "If you play us again, Thomas, it's your balls. You should know better anyway, but we ain't gonna let you run from us like you took off on Darren."

Han nodded again. "Whatever," he responded. "Just sell the idea, Gaines. I'll be in touch."

* * *

Later that night, Han pulled his NSX-R into the warehouse district and easily navigated through the racers, parking next to Dom and hopping out of his car. The team was gathered in front of Brian's car, casually watching Hector arrange the night's races and chatting idly. Dom straightened up as he caught sight of Han, jerking his head to signal for the latecomer to join the conversation.

Han surveyed the crew quickly, noting that Brian and Mia were actually speaking _civilly_ and Letty and Vince were bickering as usual. Dom was talking to Leon and Jesse, and Lindsey was standing directly in front of the King of the Streets with her back to Han. He took a moment to appreciate the back view of the small girl in a short, pleated black skirt and white top. A grin crossed his face as an idea formed in his head.

Moving quietly and signaling to Dom to remain quiet, he sneaked behind Lindsey. Listening as she replied to Dom's question and watching as she gestured with a black polished right hand, he stopped directly behind her and grabbed her hips with his hands, squeezing hard.

Lindsey jumped, startled, and let out a squeal. Jumping away from him, she whirled around and took in his chuckle with wide eyes. Glaring, she put her hands on her hips and stared him down. "And why did you do that?"

"'Cause I can," he replied casually, shrugging. Truthfully, she was fun to mess with. Her reactions were entertaining.

She fought the grin threatening to appear on her face and whirled back around, tossing her blonde hair behind her haughtily. Han rolled his eyes as she effectively blocked him out of the conversation. Moving closer behind her, he slid and arm around her waist and pulled her over, so she was standing at his side instead of in front of him. She tilted her head up and frowned at him, and he grinned insolently, making no effort to move his arm.

"You're comin back to the fort later, right?" Dom asked Han, raising an eyebrow.

Han nodded slightly. "Yeah, probably."

"Aight," Dom replied. "We're gonna have to check something out in the garage then."

Han smirked, understanding that Dom wanted to know what had happened earlier at the club. He nodded. "That's fine."

Hector walked over, ending the conversation. "Hey, Dominic, you ready to race?"

Dom smirked arrogantly. "Of course," he replied, pulling his keys from his pocket and moving toward his car.

Han and Lindsey followed the rest of the team to the sidelines, his arm still securely placed around her waist. Curiously, she glanced up at him. "So where you been?"

He shrugged, leaning against his car. "Around."

She nodded, skepticism coloring her tone. "Right. That's like… 'None of your business,' then?"

The corners of his mouth twitched, but he shrugged again. "Yeah, whatever," he replied ambiguously, easily evading her questions.

"Uh huh," she agreed, crossing her arms and slipping away from his arm. "Why can Dom know, but I can't?" she asked, pouting somewhat childishly.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Dom doesn't know anything…"

"Yet," she finished. "That's what 'lookin at something in the garage' means. You're gonna give him a little report about whatever's going on," she explained perceptively with a 'don't give me shit' attitude. "I'm not stupid, and I want to know what's goin on."

He studied her closely, impressed but still irritated that she picked up on the little details. "It's nothin you need to worry about."

"Even though it involves me," she added irritably, running a hand through her hair. "Look, it's bad enough that Brian's not lettin me take care of my own shit and that you have to pick up the slack. I wanna know what kind of shit you… and everybody else… are getting into for me."

Han started to reply, then paused. "I'ma let Brian tell you whatever he thinks you should know. Bother him," he suggested lightly, not allowing her serious tone to affect him.

She sighed. "Brian thinks I'm eleven years old," she reminded grimly. "And last time he was supposed to tell me something? Almost had a few thugs on my ass right here the other night, remember?" she shot out condescendingly.

"I remember," he replied gravely, his face a mask of seriousness as he retreated to his own thoughts. Moments later, his face became lighter. "That's why you're with me," he explained, slyly slipping his arm around her shoulders. "'Cause they can't get to you long as I'm around."

She rolled her eyes, well aware that he was trying to distract her. "You are such a flirt," she accused playfully.

"Only with you," he promised. She pinned him with a patented "that's bullshit" look and he chuckled. "And a few others," he allowed.

"Whatever, Thomas," she replied. "I guess I'll let it go, for now. Just be careful," she pleaded, her frustration pouring out through her words. Before Han could reply, Dom's red RX-8 flew by the team a few dozen feet before his opponents, sending a sharp blast of air blowing past the couple. Lindsey turned to join the rest of the team at the finish line, but stopped as he grabbed her arm, turning her to face him.

"Always. Don't worry about me," he said seriously, boring his dark eyes into her wide, almost innocent baby blues. He felt guilty that she wasted her concern on him, and was afraid she felt responsible for his involvement in the situation. He wanted to banish those thoughts from her mind.

"But," she began, almost imperceptibly, but he shook his head.

"Ay," he replied. "I'm not listenin to that shit, girl. I'm tryin to have a nice, relaxing evening, and you're killin the mood," he accused lightly, furrowing his brow as he looked down at her to emphasize his disapproval.

She rolled her eyes, snickering and shaking her head in amusement. "Yeah, whatever," she responded, grabbing his arm. "Look, we missed the end of the race. This is all your fault."

"My fault? Fuck that!"

* * *

After the races were over, Lindsey climbed in her brother's brand new navy Supra to catch a ride back to the party, feeling a little odd that she wasn't in Han's passenger seat instead. The stoic Asian had a point, however; if she wanted information, she'd have to get it from Brian.

As her blonde brother climbed in the car, she watched Han pull away from a couple skanks who were glued to his side and start toward the driver's side door of his car. As he passed her open door, he nodded at her in silent encouragement, then jumped in his own car and pulled away. Brian gunned the Supra's engine and followed Han's NSX-R in the direction of the fort.

"You and Han arguing or something?" Brian cut the silence curiously.

"Naw, why?" she replied impassively, genuinely wondering where he'd gotten that impression.

"Just wondering. You been riding with him a lot lately," he remarked casually.

"Yeah, he's a pretty cool guy," she responded honestly. It was difficult for her to explain her relationship with Han. She'd barely known him for a week, but here he was taking on all of her problems, getting her when she couldn't really express herself, entertaining her when she was bored; he was like a permanent fixture in her life. It was weird to think about not having him around at this point, but her brother probably wouldn't get that. Finally, Lindsey settled on a vague, "We understand each other."

Brian nodded, focusing on the road. "Figured. I appreciate him watching out for you, keeping you outta trouble like this."

She nodded, not responding for awhile. It worried her that Han was dealing with the same crew Will had been so into. They were dangerous, and Han and the rest of the team had a nice, settled routine going on. She knew they'd all had their own issues in the past, and she felt pretty guilty for showing up and causing more trouble in the rare moment of peace they'd stumbled upon.

She was mostly concerned with what Han was planning to do, however. He was calm and collected all the time, and she doubted he would ever make a rash decision, but she knew just from being around him that he was somewhat of a daredevil, a gambler.

"He's… taking some risks, isn't he?" she eventually voiced her worries.

Brian shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

"He won't tell me," she replied instantly, frustrated. "Says it's your right to let me know whatever you're comfortable with."

Brian grinned. "Bet you just loved that, huh?"

"You know me too well," she replied with a chuckle. "So what do you feel comfortable letting me know?" she pried. "And make sure you don't leave out the important stuff."

"I don't really know much of anything," Brian shrugged. "Just that he knows people. Especially Gaines' people, so he's dealing with them for us. He and Dom both seem to think it's better than you or I trying to handle it."

"Well, what's he going to do?" she questioned, digging for details, unsatisfied with the answer.

"I'm not sure," Brian replied. "But I know he was into some shit after Dom went to prison, and then again in Japan… so whatever it is could be shady."

Lindsey sighed. "That's what I was afraid of," she mumbled anxiously. "Do you think there's any way to-"

"Nope," Brian replied, not even waiting for her to finish the question. "He's made up his mind. Dom says he feels some fucked up responsibility to clear this shit up, and that he's gonna do it. He says that if Han sees something in someone, he's gonna help them out, make them one of his own… And apparently, he's seen something in you," he finished, sounding a little displeased.

"I told you," Lindsey replied. "We understand each other."

Brian nodded. "Yeah, I know. And I guess that's a good thing."

She snickered. "You guess?" she questioned in doubtfully. "C'mon Brian, the guy's risking his ass for me. Be grateful," she ordered ardently. "And it's not even like that," she added finally, mumbling.

Brian smirked. "Yeah, whatever," he replied, pulling his Supra up to the curb and parking easily. Lindsey hopped out of the car, fixing her mini and adjusting her three-quarter length sleeves. As Brian waited for an oncoming car to pass before he climbed out of the drivers side, she pulled down her shirt so a little cleavage peaked out from the simple scooped neck, then ran a hand through her hair as they walked to the front door together.

After they entered the house, Lindsey was immediately rushed to the kitchen by Mia to get drinks, then introduced to dozens of people she'd never remember by the friendly, motherly girl. After a while, Lindsey recognized a couple kids from the high school she'd seen earlier that day in class. Eventually, one of the guys came over and started asking her about her impressions of L.A. and the school, effectively pulling her into their circle.

As she chatted idly with Matt, Alex, Steven, Nick, and a couple of girls, she quickly became bored, realizing that they were purely wannabes. Although they were serious fans who were brave enough to venture to the races on their own, they knew next to nothing about the reality of street racing and had limited knowledge on the fundamentals of modded cars. They were garage junkies, but they were the shop-class variety that wouldn't be able to hang with the big boys for a few more years. Her eyes strayed from their faces regularly, and she was able to locate members of the team. Finally, Han's tall, lithe form caught her eye, leaning lazily against the wall and nodding uninterestedly as a fake bitch tried to draw him into a conversation.

Her attention snapped back to the group of school kids as she heard a female shout her name. Vanessa, the only person in the circle who knew shit about anything, was trying to get her attention. "Oh, my bad, what's up?"

Vanessa grinned, tucking a piece of her brown hair behind her ear. "It's cool, I'd be distracted by that _fine _ass man, too," she joked.

Lindsey rolled her eyes as the guys and the racers-in-training on their arms looked around questioningly. "Yeah, whatever."

Vanessa giggled. "We're headin out. Most of them have curfews," she explained. "Gonna stop at White Castle to grab some grub before we go home, and I thought you might wanna go," she suggested politely, sending her a friendly smile.

Lindsey grinned back. "Maybe another time," she suggested. "My car's still in the shop, and I'm ridin with my brother tonight," she responded. Maybe, if only Vanessa was going, she'd have tagged along. However, the rest of the lame asses were getting on her nerves.

Vanessa nodded. "That's cool, girl," she responded. "Maybe we can get together over the weekend or something," she suggested. "I know you're new, I can show you around."

"Yeah, sure," Lindsey replied. "Just text me."

The kids from school all bid her goodbye, the other girls all giving her dark looks as the guys hugged and exclaimed over her too enthusiastically. Vanessa laughed in the distance, finally rounding them all up and leading the way out the door. Lindsey shook her head as they left, taking a sip of her quickly warming Corona and sliding her eyes over the party scene. Suddenly feeling a little tired and out of place, she spotted an open place on the couch next to Leon and easily slid into it.

"Hey, shawty, what's up?" Leon asked genuinely, his naturally rough tone ringing distinctively.

"Nothin much, buddy," she replied with a grin. "Kinda over it," she gestured to the party with a sigh, settling back into the cushions.

"I can dig it," he nodded understandingly. "Especially since you're new. Saw you over there talkin to Matty and the high school crew," he remarked casually. "They're good people. Young, but good."

Lindsey snickered. "Hell yeah, they're young. Prolly don't even know the difference between a manual and an automatic, Leon."

He barked out a laugh, but before he could reply, Han appeared at his side. "Stop actin like you do, girl," he interrupted, nudging her shoulder.

She rolled her eyes, but was unable to hide the smirk that crossed her face. She did enjoy it when he called her that… "Whatever, Han. Why don't you go back where you came from?"

"But you're so much more pleasant," he replied sarcastically, sticking out an arm and pushing her over. He wedged himself into the small space he created, effectively squeezing Lindsey into a two-by-two inch area.

"Hey, now," Leon protested, standing up immediately. "You're too fat for all that, man."

Lindsey laughed as Han's face contorted in disbelief. "Ohhh, you gonna take that?" she asked him, poking his arm as she scooted a couple inches to her right. She was still seated closely to him, leaving the second half of the couch pretty much open. "I mean, I can see his point…"

He shrugged, pulling the handle on the side of the couch and letting the foot rest pop up under his feet. Reclining back, he pulled his shirt up, revealing perfectly toned, lightly tanned abs that rippled as he flexed his abdomen. She felt a stirring in her stomach as her glance skimmed over the V of his pelvis and the small line of dark hair that trailed down from his navel and under his boxers. "I don't know, what do you think?"

She wasn't; thinking was a little far from her mind as she tore her gaze from his stomach and willed herself not to flush. Forcing her mind back to the conversation at hand, she replied. "Might wanna consider skipping the next couple cookouts."

Leon cracked up again, excusing himself to go find his conquest for the evening. Lindsey smirked, turning up the volume of Viva La Bam as Han shook his head again, amused. He'd been bored all night, slipping off into his own little world quite frequently during his discussion with the attention-hungry "Miley," who had occupied him since he'd arrived at the party. Finally, he completely lost interest in her, not even willing to put up with her brainless chatter long enough to get her back to his apartment. He wasn't sure what was going on in his head, but he just hadn't been up for anything lately.

"So what happened to your little gang of preschoolers?" he asked casually as she settled back into the couch, her side barely touching his.

She rolled her eyes. "Went to White Castle. They have _curfews_," she sighed, curling her bare legs up under her.

"That sucks," he replied, tilting his head to study her better.

"I don't really care," she responded immediately. She wanted to ask where his slut had gone, but figured it wouldn't be so readily excepted. And she also wondered why he was chilling on the couch with her, but once again remained silent. "They were boring."

He nodded instantly. "I feel that," he mused, a thoughtful look on his face. "It's like… sometimes it's the same old shit, and it never gets any more interesting."

"And it's all just kind of pointless," she added, sighing. "Like, getting to know most of the people here? No point. They're all insignificant and I won't remember them anyway."

He chuckled again. "Exactly."

She remained silent for a moment, staring at the TV but not really paying attention to the CKY Crew's antics. "So I talked to Brian."

"Yeah?" he replied, watching as her eyes slid back to his.

"Yeah," she said. "And I don't think you should do anything shady for me."

He grinned, borderline sarcastically. "I know you're not that naïve."

She sighed. He was right; whatever went down was gonna be shady, whether she paid off her debt or he did. He shook his head. "Really bothering you, isn't it?"

She nodded, pursing her lips and looking away. "I'm used to takin care of myself. I don't need anybody else's…" she struggled to find the right words. "Blood on my hands, I guess you could say… I mean, I know you know what you're doin. Just kind of wish you didn't have to."

He sighed this time. "Eventually we're gonna get past this," he remarked impatiently, grabbing her shoulders and turning her body to face him. "This is just what I do, alright? It's kind of like how Dom is. When people roll with him, he takes care of them. I got a garage full of kids back in Tokyo that I taught how to race, how to jack car parts, how to take care of themselves… And I protected them."

Her gaze held a million questions, and he continued. "It's like I told my buddy Sean once," he explained. "I take a lot of risks, but that's nothing. What's important is the character of the people you keep around you… And honestly, if I don't do this, you won't be around for long," he shrugged. "I'm the only option you got right now."

"And there's no use in feelin guilty for bringin some shit with you, either. We all understand that you didn't know what was going on. So, as usual, we blame Brian," he joked, and she giggled a little. After her bubbling laughter died off, she looked at him and nodded reluctantly, and he smirked.

"So like I said," he finished, snaking his arm around her and pulling her back to rest against his chest. "Don't worry bout me, baby girl. I know what I'm doin."

* * *

_So, the chapter title, "Closer," is a Ne-Yo song, but I used the title here because I thought it emphasized that Han and Lindsey are slowly growing more comfortable and building a bond. Ehh?_

_And as usual, we question: "Does Han really know what he's doing?"_

_Thanks for the reviews! I'd love some more! :)_


	6. Superman

Authors Note: Sorry about the lack of updates! I've been busy. Thanks for the reviews and alerts!! Hope you enjoy the new chapter. 3

* * *

The O'Conner Apartment  
7:45 pm

Lindsey rolled her eyes as a deep frown settled over Brian's face. She leaned back into the leather couch, turning up the volume of CSI as he skimmed over the printed letter in his hand. Finally, he dropped the paper on the counter and made his way across the apartment, standing in front of the TV.

"Excuse me, I'm tryin to watch that," she pointed out, glaring at her older brother.

"Excuse me," he mimicked, turning the TV off. "You should be doing your homework."

"Don't have any," she replied instantly, craning her neck to see around him.

"Bullshit," he countered, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. "That's what you always say. If you really were doing your homework, you wouldn't be _barely_ pulling C's in all of your classes."

"It's passing, isn't it?" Lindsey snapped irritably.

"Lindz," he said patiently. "You're smarter than that. Can you please make an effort here?"

"No," she answered instantly. "I do what I have to do to get by. I'm not giving up _fun_ so I can complete my busy work," she explained sarcastically.

Brian sighed. "Well what about college, Lindz? What about your future? You're gonna have a tough time gettin into a good school with these grades. You graduate in a couple months, what are you gonna do then? Hang out at D.T.'s and support yourself on race money?"

"What, like you do?" she shot back. "Look, Bri, I appreciate your concern, but get off my ass. I'll figure something out."

He set his jaw, crossing his arms. "Well, until you do 'figure it out,' no more races on school nights. You're stayin in, and you're gonna start doin better in school."

"Bullshit!" Lindsey exclaimed. "You so can't do that. You're not my dad, and when you were my age you went out all the time!"

"Sorry, sweetheart, but that's your problem," he responded, pocketing his keys. "We'll talk about it next week," he continued, moving toward the door. "I'm heading to the fort. I'll be home late."

"Yeah, whatever," Lindsey growled as he shut the door. Angrily, she turned the TV on, tossing the remote to the other side of the couch aggressively. "Fuck!"

After a few minutes of moodily watching Warrick and Catherine analyze a crime scene, Lindsey's phone vibrated on the coffee table. She grabbed it and flipped it open.

1 New Message from Vanessa:

_Hey girl, 18 n up night Club Z. I know the bouncer. U in?_

Lindsey smirked, raising an eyebrow and thinking it over quickly.

_Sure, sounds good. Pick me up at 9:30!_

"Sorry, Brian," she sighed. "But this grounded thing? Just not gonna work out."

* * *

The Fort  
8 pm

Han was chilling in the driveway with the team as Brian's Supra roared around the street corner. The former cop parked his car under a streetlight a few feet from the house, then climbed out and casually made his way to the group. Han raised an eyebrow when he realized Brian was alone.

"Hey," Brian greeted, grabbing a beer out of the cooler at Dom's feet. A few of the crew mumbled greetings in return.

"Where's Lindsey?" Mia asked curiously, noticing the blonde's absence.

"The apartment," Brian replied. "She's been slackin on her schoolwork and getting low grades, so I said she has to stay in during the week."

"Oh," Mia responded, frowning. Letty snickered softly, and Leon shook his head. Han grinned at their reactions.

"What?" Brian asked, clueless.

"Well, Brian, you can't really tell her what to do," Mia explained. "She's been doing her own thing for a long time now."

"So?" he asked. "She needs to get it together."

"Okay," Mia shrugged. "I just don't think it's gonna work that well."

"Do you think it's a good idea to leave her alone?" Dom asked finally. "You started bringing her along because she was in danger."

"I thought she'd be okay for one night," Brian explained. "I don't plan on making her stay home a lot. Just until she realizes she needs to keep her grades up."

Dom nodded, changing the subject to the plans for that night. Han tuned out the conversation as he slowly sipped his beer, mentally planning on driving by the apartment later to check on Lindsey.

* * *

Club Z  
10:00 pm

Lindsey winced as the cool breeze picked up again, blowing past the line outside the club. It was a cool, windy night with a sliver of a crescent moon, and if it weren't for the streetlights she wouldn't be able to see much of anything. Her short, low cut zebra print dress wasn't doing much to keep her warm in the odd weather. The muted sound of the pounding music inside the club distracted her as Vanessa chattered on about the guys who were meeting them inside.

A low wolf whistle sounded from behind them, and Lindsey curiously turned around. Three men, all tall and decked out in Sean Jean, were walking past the line. The one in the center eyed her appreciatively, his gaze lingering on her exposed cleavage and legs. She kept her expression neutral; the feral look in his eyes made her uncomfortable. A quick glance to her left told her Vanessa's thoughts mirrored her own. The dark haired girl's brow was furrowed, and she turned to face the upcoming entrance with a toss of her long hair.

"Creeps," Vanessa murmured. Lindsey nodded silently as she watched the three men bypass the remainder of the line, exchanging a few words with the bouncer. The middle man pinned her with his gaze one last time before following his friends into the darkness of the club.

A shiver of apprehension ran up her spine, and Vanessa looked at her questioningly. "Are you cold or something?"

Lindsey looked at her, surprised, then nodded. "Yeah," she confirmed. "The wind's getting to me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Vanessa replied. "But we're almost to the front of the line, so it won't be long until we get inside."

* * *

The Warehouse District  
11:30 pm

Han sat casually on the hood of his car, smirking as Dom blew past the finish line and a cheer rose up around him. Edwin, one of the Tran cousins, and some kid from Vegas brought up the rear, all frontin dejected looks and wounded egos. A bunch of people rushed Dom's car as he climbed out, arms spread in a triumphant stance. The rest of the team hung back, watching in amusement as the race patrons worshiped the King.

Pulling his cell from his pocket, he checked the time. Deciding it was time to check in on the Jailbait, he slid his phone back into his jeans and grabbed his car keys. Sliding off of his hood, he moved to the drivers side of the car, then stopped short as he realized someone was leaning against it.

"Hey, Han."

He smirked again, placing the face instantly. "Sam, honey," he greeted smoothly. "What up?"

"Nothing. What about you? It's been a long time since we hung out," she simpered, fluttering her lashes at him and pouting.

He remembered. The last time he'd enjoyed her company her three inch long talons had nearly destroyed his back. She'd made him bleed. He liked it rough, but that just wasn't cool. "Yeah, I've been busy."

"Too busy for me?" Sam asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He paused for moment; Sam was a little violent, but she was good and usually available with short notice. It was better to keep her happy with him.

He grinned. "Never too busy for you," he denied easily.

She smiled, moving to lean up against him. "Well, we should make up for lost time. How about you take me back to the Torettos and we celebrate Dom's victory?" she suggested, running a hand up and down his forearm. When he didn't answer immediately, she continued. "I'll make it worth your while, I promise," she whispered, placing a persuasive hand on his crotch.

"I guess I can spare a few minutes," he replied, dipping his head down to catch her lips with his. He guessed Lindsey would be okay alone for one night…

* * *

Club Z  
Midnight

Lindsey grinned as Lil Wayne's low, unique voice ground out through the speakers and the club's crowd went wild. Vanessa handed her a drink with a grin as she pulled her hair up to allow the air to cool down the back of her neck. It was packed in the club, and there was barely room to move out on the floor. Lindsey had relaxed after they'd arrived inside the club, and she still hadn't seen the guys from outside. She was having too much fun to care about them now, anyway.

Gulping down the rest of her drink, she tossed the cup into the garbage and grabbed Vanessa's arm. There was a lot of grinding to do and so little time to accomplish it all.

* * *

The Fort  
1 am

By the time Han arrived at the Toretto house the victory party was in full swing. He slipped through the crowded porch and into the living room, instantly spotting Letty and Dom hanging out on the couch. Dom raised his beer to Han as he walked inside, and Han grinned.

"Ay man!" Dom greeted. "Just who I wanted to see."

"What up, Dominic?" he questioned, his eyes searching for a bucket of iced Coronas.

"We ran out of beer," Dom replied grimly.

Han raised a brow, surprised. "Really?"

He nodded. "Really. I noticed you weren't here, so I doubt that you're as shitfaced as the rest of the team," Dom explained. "I thought you could take Leon and V and get some more."

"Yeah, whatever," he shrugged. Dom reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Han backed up. "Nah, man, I got it. Where are Dumb and Dumber?"

"Right here, jackass," Vince responded irritably from his right.

Han and Dom chuckled, and Leon rolled his eyes. "Hey now, Coyote, don't get your panties in a twist," Leon teased.

"Shut the fuck up, Leon," Vince barked.

Han laughed again. "Come on, assholes," he ordered. "We coulda been there already," he pointed out as he made his way back through the door. He heard the sound of a resonating smack follow him out the door as Leon exclaimed, "Vince! You're a douche!"

* * *

Club Z  
1:15 am

Lindsey laughed as she and Vanessa stumbled outside, a little unsteady in their sky high stiletto heels.

"Who knew?" Vanessa asked as they passed the line of people waiting to enter the club. "Three hours of dancing nonstop makes your legs tired!"

Lindsey chuckled again. "Girl, I didn't. You better keep on truckin though, cause I gotta get home before Brian does."

"Yeah, yeah," Vanessa replied. "I so liked you better when big brother didn't have you on lockdown."

"I know, I feel like a little kid," she responded. "I've felt like a little kid since I moved here, actually," she continued, a frown darkening her features.

Vanessa glanced at her as they continued down the street, making their way toward the car they left two blocks over. "Probably because you're rollin with people so much older than you are."

Lindsey shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. But I've always done that. I just feel like… I don't know," she finished lamely.

"Does this have anything to do with Mr. Hotstuff, Asian Version from the party the other night?" Vanessa asked wisely. "You two seemed pretty sweet on each other."

"'Pretty sweet on each other?'" Lindsey repeated. "Who are you, June Cleaver?"

Vanessa giggled. "Don't evade the question, O'Conner," she ordered. "You two have been attached at the hip since you got here."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the blonde answered finally. "We're just cool. Han's the only one who doesn't treat me like a kid, really. Which is totally funny, because he has to baby sit me all the time."

"Right," Vanessa replied doubtfully. "I'm sure he definitely sees it as babysitting."

"Vanessa, I'm seventeen," Lindsey reminded, rolling her eyes. "I'm nothing but jailbait to most of the guys in this city."

"Well with that attitude, it's no wonder you feel like a little kid," Vanessa responded snottily.

Lindsey snickered as they turned a corner together, navigating away from the main road and onto a quiet, empty street. It was dimly lit, and Lindsey vaguely recognized it as one of the streets Han always used on the way to school in the morning. The car was parked in the distance, hardly more than a silhouette in the darkness.

"Dude, why'd you park all the way down there?" Lindsey asked. "It's like the middle of fuckin nowhere."

"I don't know," Vanessa shrugged. "I guess I didn't want to park out in the open so nobody would fuck with my car."

"I'm kinda more worried about somebody fucking with us now, honey," she said sarcastically.

Vanessa snickered. "Oh, we'll be-"

Lindsey grabbed Vanessa's arm as three tall figures emerged from the shadows by the car. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she recognized them from the club, and a sick feeling of anxiety spread from the pit of her stomach to the rest of her body. Instantly, she reached for her cell in the top of her dress and pulled it out, her fingers flying instinctively to Brian's number. Before she could dial, however, one of the men shouted.

"Drop the fuckin phone!"

She put the phone away instead of actually dropping it, pressing herself closer to Vanessa, who had a death grip on her arm. The men were walking toward them now, slowly and deliberately. "Do you think they have guns?" Lindsey whispered.

"I don't know, I can't tell!" Vanessa hissed back, her eyes wide.

"Okay, try to move backwards a little," Lindsey suggested. Together, the girls scooted back as unnoticeably as possible.

"Oh, where ya goin, girls?" Loser Number One asked sarcastically.

Number Two chimed in. "Yeah, don't you wanna hang out with us? You like to party don't you?"

"I know the blonde one does," Number Three added. "She hangs with the Torettos, and she used to run with Will… Before he got locked up."

Number One took over. "Yeah, what do you know about that, Blondie?"

"About what?" Lindsey replied defiantly, pushing Vanessa behind her. They obviously weren't random attackers; they were Gaines' guys. If they wanted her, they'd have to leave her friend alone.

"Bout my boy getting locked up," he shot back. "Somebody sold him out, and somebody took off with our money."

"Really?" Lindsey asked. "That's unfortunate. Sounds like an inside thing to me, might wanna get that checked out."

"Fuck you," Number Two growled. "We know it was you, you took off after that and nobody ever saw you around again."

"Obviously," she responded, stalling. They were only inches away now. "My boyfriend was locked up. I had no reason to be around."

"Bullshit. Enrique's got this bullshit plan to use you to get more money, but that's not gonna fix shit. You fucked with our brother, and there's only one way to deal wit that," Number One explained.

"Really, what's that?" Lindsey asked, boredom coloring her tone.

Number One reached out and grabbed her upper arms in a tight grip, slamming her body up against his. Vanessa screamed. "We use you like the bitch you are, then toss you in the ocean like every other rat who's fucked with us," he growled into her ear, grinding into her. Lindsey remained silent, keeping her body rigid.

"You're lucky you look so good, sexy," Number Two added, grabbing a handful of her ass roughly under her short skirt. "It's the only reason you're still alive."

"And you brought a friend, too," Number Three continued, grabbing Vanessa's hips.

"Ohhh yeahhh," Number One moaned lowly as his hand skimmed over Lindsey's body, squeezing her left breast tightly. "This is gonna be fun."

* * *

Han smirked as Vince laughed loudly (and a little tipsily) at the punch line of Leon's dirty joke, instinctively navigating the streets toward the local liquor store. As he sped down the empty street he often used as a shortcut to the local high school, he caught a glimpse of a group of people out of the corner of his eye. Slowing down, he surveyed the empty car on the side of the road, decided it looked familiar, and moved closer to get a better look at the group.

"Dude, why are we stopping?" Leon questioned, confused.

"Yeah, man, I don't see any booze around… Fuck, is that O'Conner's sister?" Vince shouted. Han had already thrown the gearshift into park, grabbed something out of the console, and shot out of the car. Vince and Leon followed immediately.

"Ohhh yeahhh, this is gonna be fun," the guy hanging onto Lindsey moaned out. Han reached him first, grabbing his shoulder and jerking him violently away from the wide-eyed blonde girl. Before the man had a grasp on what was happening, Han's fist connected with his face once, crushing his nose. As the man stumbled backward, Han kicked his feet out from under him, throwing him to the ground. The man landed on his head, cracking his skull hard against the pavement. Han reached behind him as he loomed above the man on the ground, pulling a nine millimeter out of his waistband and cocking it as he watched blood ooze from the unconscious man's open skull.

Vince had tackled the man behind Lindsey to the ground, and repeatedly rained his right fist down on his victim's face. The man had been knocked out on contact, and his face would be unrecognizable after he healed. Leon had successfully gotten Vanessa out of the last man's clutches, and was currently delivering blow after blow to his ribcage, relishing in the resounding crack that met his efforts with each kick.

"Stop," Han ordered hoarsely. Leon stepped back from the writhing body, aiming one last sharp kick to the man's temple to knock him unconscious. Vince climbed off of the last man, wiping his bloody hands on the unconscious man's tee shirt. "Leave em and let's get the fuck out of here. Leon, V, take the girl home. Call Jesse to meet you there now, then get your asses back to the fort."

Vince grabbed the keys from the shaking and crying dark haired girl, unlocking the car door and hopping into the drivers seat. Leon took her hand, leading her to the backseat, then opened the door for her and helped her inside. Seconds later, they were speeding away as Vince talked on his cell.

Han slid his gun back into his waistband, turning to Lindsey, who was waiting a few feet away. Her blue eyes were still wide, her arms crossed in front of her body and a troubled look on her pretty face. "Come on, Lindsey," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and steering her down the street, away from the broken bodies on the ground.

When they reached his car, he stopped, taking her face in his hands and tilting it up so she'd look at him. "Baby, are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, blinking. "I think I'm okay…" she said, taking his hands in hers and moving them to wrap around her body. He hugged her tightly, letting her rest against his chest for a few moments. "Thank you," she whispered finally as she pulled away.

"Anytime," he whispered back, rubbing her delicate cheek with his thumb. Letting her go, he opened the car door and she climbed inside. He cast one last, dark look at Gaines' men down the street, then slid into the drivers seat and sped back to the fort.

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_

_Chapter title inspired by Han's superhero-like actions. Song is by Eminem. "You know you want me baby…" ;)_

_Reviews are REALLY appreciated! I'd love some for this chapter, I worked hard on it. I hate the beginning, but I like the ending this time!_


	7. Crushcrushcrush

_Author's Note: Thanks for all of the reviews!! They're appreciated so much! Hope this clears up a little confusion._

* * *

Han threw the NSX-R into reverse as he skillfully wedged his car in a tiny parking spot. Lindsey winced as he shifted violently again, sneaking a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. His strong jaw was set in anger, his dark eyes were narrowed and cold. His perfect lips were drawn into a small sneer, and his long, thin fingers held a tight, bruising grip on the steering wheel. Rage radiated off of him.

As he cut the engine to the car, he popped his door up and climbed out of the car, his eyes searching through the darkness for any sign of movement. When he was satisfied no one was waiting for them, he opened Lindsey's door and steered her up the front walkway.

"You okay?" she asked quietly, glancing up at him.

His face registered a certain amount of surprise, but his gait didn't slow. "That's my line," he replied lowly, shrugging as Mia threw the front door open and ushered Lindsey inside.

The living room was absolutely trashed; no one had bothered to clean up after they had quickly called an end to the party. Brian was on the couch, but sprang up as his sister walked inside. He was at her side in an instant, catching her in a crushing hug and murmuring about how she was grounded for life. Dom also stood up as they entered the room, pulling Han off to the side.

"Who?" he rumbled simply, his heavy brows set in a deep frown.

Han sighed tiredly. "Gaines' friends. Don't know em personally."

Dom's expression grew darker. "Call him. Have him meet us somewhere neutral, they crossed the line," he said angrily. "She's one of ours now and this shit needs to be settled."

"A'ight," Han mumbled, pulling out his cell.

"Oh, and Han?" Dom added over his shoulder as he made his way over to Lindsey. "Get in touch with Tokyo."

* * *

Daniel Kale's jaw tightened as he watched his butler disappear into the house, showing two young blondes to the entertainment room for the time being. It was just so typical for his fun to be ruined like this… Just like old times. Moments later, the gray haired man returned with Gaines' thugged out form in tow.

Kale's eyes narrowed when he got a closer look at the Cuban; his eyes were bloodshot and he wreaked of weed. His irritation flared as Gaines dropped arrogantly into the seat across from him, lighting a cigarette. Kale adjusted his tie carefully, and Gaines watched as the light glinted off the platinum ring on the man's right hand.

"What brings you here, Gaines?" Kale questioned immediately, masking his impatience. The thug was better at keeping business in order than Darren had been, no questions asked, but he didn't enjoy dealing with Gaines in the least. Still, someone had to do the dirty work; he'd graduated from handling shit out on the street fifteen years ago and he wasn't planning on going back. He needed a manager, and Gaines was stupid enough to act as his muscle and give him all of the profits.

Gaines shrugged. "Tokyo's off," he explained simply.

Kale narrowed his eyes again, glaring at Gaines coldly. "Excuse me?"

Gaines sighed. "The girl was at a club tonight and three of my guys tried to push up on her. Some of the Toretto team stepped in. Put em in the fucking hospital, and the one who went for her is in critical goddamn condition," he explained. Kale took a swig of his scotch as he felt his blood pressure rise. "My boys are pullin at the reins," Gaines continued. "Bitch is gonna end up dead, and Thomas is gonna fuckin take away Tokyo."

"No," Kale replied firmly. Gaines looked at him questioningly, and he elaborated. "I'm sick and fucking tired of dealing with the Tran family, Gaines; I've entertained the idea of blowing up their restaurant during their Sunday dinners far too many times. They're a hassle, and plainly a pain in my ass," he finished grimly.

"You," he gestured to Gaines with his drink. "Are gonna fix this. You're supposed to keep your boys in line. I will take my business elsewhere Gaines," he threatened. "Just because my nephew used to do my dirty work and you inherited his gang does not mean I need you. If you cannot handle the magnitude of this situation, I will kill you and I will find another assistant."

Gaines glared at him dangerously. "Who exactly would that be?"

Kale smiled grimly. "Thug gangstas like yourself are a dime a dozen, especially in southern California. Don't tempt me, Enrique," he ordered coldly. "Let Han set this up; it will satisfy both his and her debt."

"Not gonna happen," Gaines responded angrily. "My boys are gonna go after the girl. Maybe you don't give a shit about loyalty, since you're lettin some punk who stole money from Darren for months before he took off to Japan set this shit up," he reminded heatedly, throwing his cigarette into the pool and standing. "But my guys are loyal til death. Not only did she get one of ours sent to prison, but now she's almost gotten three of out boys killed. It's over."

Kale rolled his eyes in boredom. "I'm a businessman, Gaines, we don't do loyalty," he spat. "Use your head; tell Han Thomas that the boys won't leave the girl alone until they get their payoff. He'll have the deal done in days and he won't let the kid out of his sight."

"And after that?" Gaines reminded spitefully.

Kale pinned him with a serious, degrading look. "The Yakuza and I will have a direct connection. You can kill the bitch yourself for all I care. But Gaines," he continued authoritatively. "I want my money, and you will make it happen."

* * *

Han watched patiently from the couch as Mia and Letty fawned over Lindsey, making sure she really was okay. Brian was seated close by, his eyes following his sister like a hawk. He had personally thanked Han, Leon, and Vince for helping her after the others returned from dropping a distraught Vanessa off. The rest of the crew was seated around the living room. Everyone was tense and worried; a weighty unease hung in the air, promising trouble in the near future.

Finally unable to sit around any longer, Han stood up. A few people sent him questioning gazes; he shrugged and mumbled "Phone call," as he entered the kitchen. Doubting his conversation would go unheard if he held it in the kitchen, he exited the house through the backdoor and dropped onto the porch steps. Pulling out his cell, he dialed a familiar number. The phone rang for a few moments, then the other line picked up. "Heyyy, Han!"

Han smirked despite the seriousness of the situation. "Sean, whatchu done?"

"Eatin right now," Sean drawled, his mouth audibly full. "Neela and I found a new pizza place pretty close to the garage. Some of the toppings are a little sketchy, but I think it's safe enough… I think," he emphasized.

"Nice," Han replied simply, smirking fondly as he reminisced of his time in Tokyo. "Is Neela with you?"

"Sure," Sean answered easily. "Wanna say hi?"

"Yeah," Han responded. "I gotta ask her about something," he explained, leaning back against the concrete behind him and surveying the yard. The grass needed to be mowed.

"Alright, here she is," Sean said. Han the phone move through the air. Moments later, a feminine voice floated over the line. "Hi, Han! How's L.A.?"

"Fine, Neela," he replied. "Listen, I'm dealin with a problem over here, and I need a favor."

She didn't reply for a moment, but then said, "Okay, what's up?"

"There's a few people over here that are lookin to… form a partnership… with the Yakuza," he explained vaguely.

"Ohh," Neela murmured. "Han, I-"

"All I need you to do is pass along a message to Kamata," he clarified quickly. "I'm kind of acting like a middleman."

"Why?" Neela asked curiously. "You know deals with the Yakuza are bad for anybody's business, Han, you learned that the hard way…"

"Yeah," he responded, rolling his eyes. "But I don't really give a shit about these people, so it doesn't matter."

She was quiet again. He heard her draw in a deep breath. "Okay, fine," she agreed. "But you have some major explaining to do later," she reminded him sternly.

"Right," he agreed easily, running a hand through his hair as he considered his directions. "Just tell Kamata Enrique Gaines wants to cut the Trans from the deal," he instructed. "I'm negotiating for him. Car parts in exchange for US dollars, weapons, and probably some drugs, I don't know."

"Okay," she said. "When are the Americans going to send their first shipment over?" He frowned, not replying for a moment. "Han," Neela continued cautiously. "Tell me they don't want the Yakuza to make the first move here…"

"It's just so much easier for the Yakuza to make connections," Han explained tiredly. "They can find holes in customs in hours, it would take me weeks," he reminded her irritably.

"He's never going to go for this," she said grimly. "He still wants you dead, anyway. Remember, you stole a bunch of money from him?"

He winced. "Yeah, I remember, but I'm in a hurry here. Just try, Neela? Please?"

She sighed. "We'll head over after our pizza's finished," she agreed reluctantly. "I'll call you back."

"Thanks," he replied sincerely.

"Yeah," she responded warmly. "You're welcome," she said. "Even if you are a pain in the ass."

* * *

Dom's car led the way through a maze of streets in the warehouse district, finally coming to an abrupt stop in the center of a deserted and empty intersection. Han parked the black and silver NSX-R beside him. Vince and Brian's cars were both left behind them. The men gathered between Dominic and Han's cars, keeping an eye out for any sign of visitors.

Han leaned against his door and lit a Black as they waited. Dominic looked at him, shaking his head and smirking. "Shit'll kill you," he mumbled lowly.

Han didn't reply; he just smirked and shrugged indifferently. Vince chuckled and took the Black from Han, raising it in a toast to Dom before taking a draw from the nicotine stick himself. Brian laughed this time. "At least we'll be alive to say 'I told you so' when the lung cancer does em in," he reminded Dom with a smile.

Han snickered, but let his comment die as the sound of an engine in the distance reached his ears. Moments later a white Escalade on 24s pulled up, the bass booming inside the tinted windows. Enrique Gaines climbed from the passengers seat. Han tossed his half finished Black aside and moved toward him.

Gaines skipped a greeting. "We gotta problem."

"Hell yeah we do," Han replied tersely, motioning for Dominic and the others to stay by the cars. Han stopped a couple feet in front of Gaines. "Why were your boys fuckin around earlier?" he questioned heatedly.

Gaines stared at him stonily. "Wanna let me know why they're in the hospital right now?"

Han snickered humorlessly and Vince mumbled indignantly in the background. "Probably because they can't keep their hands to themselves."

"Bad move, Han, really fuckin bad move," Gaines remarked, exasperated. He shook his head. "You shoulda left them the hell alone."

"Fuck you," Han growled. "You're lucky they're still breathin. If I had my way, they'd each have a bullet in their head and you'd have three bodies to bury tonight," he explained, the rage in his voice betraying his calm expression.

Gaines laughed condescendingly. "You mighta thought about it, brotha, but even you aren't stupid enough to try it."

Han shook his head, turning to leave before the situation got any worse. Gaines spoke up again. "Han… If you thought the bitch was in trouble before…" he raised an eyebrow, letting his voice trail off. Han turned around and pinned him with a cold glare. He continued. "That's nothin compared to now. My boys are pissed, they're ready to get revenge for their own. I can't do anything else to keep her safe," he shrugged, attempting to appear sympathetic.

"Because you were doin such a great job before," Han replied sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Whatever, man," Gaines responded indifferently. "All I can tell you is you better be gettin this shit together, and you better be doin it fast. She's number one on the shit list until you do, and even after that I can't make any promises."

Han sighed angrily. "This is bullshit."

Gaines chuckled, shrugging again. "Maybe you shoulda kept a better eye on your bitch and a better handle on your temper, playa," he suggested as he backed toward the Escalade. "I'd say you have about a week until the dogs descend. That's bout how long it'll be before the boys you fucked up'll see the rest of the crew."

"Yeah, whatever," Han replied shortly, finishing his trek to the cars.

Gaines climbed in the Escalade, which backed up to turn around. The passengers side window lowered as Han reached his car, and the Cuban called out. "And Han? If this deal doesn't go through, it's not gonna be good for you either. You might not wanna come back."

With that, the Cadillac sped off in the opposite direction. Han shook his head as he resumed his spot against his drivers seat. Brian spoke up first. "Should I send her somewhere?"

Han looked up, locking eyes with Dom. Dominic shrugged, his expression reflecting his consideration. Finally, Han replied. "Play it by ear. If it's bad enough that would be a good move."

Dom nodded, supporting Han's answer. "Right now," the muscular man began. "We should head back to the fort. It's not a good idea to leave the girls alone for long, even if Leon and Jesse are there."

* * *

Han's phone rang as he followed Dominic back to the Toretto house. He answered it quickly, anxiously awaiting any news from Neela.

"You owe me," she revealed immediately.

"I hope so," he replied casually, waiting for her to continue the story as he expertly navigated the car with one hand.

"It took a lot of convincing," she explained irritably. "But he's interested. He's taking the idea to his partners in the morning."

"Good," Han responded. "What did he want in return?" he asked, concerned.

"I have to come to dinner on Sunday," she grumbled. "With Takashi."

Han sighed. "Shit, Neela," he mumbled. "I'm sorry."

She mirrored his sigh. "It's okay," she replied. "I know you need this. Sean says you're lucky you're family, by the way."

Han chuckled. "Tell him to get my Gold Card out of the safe and take you shopping."

"Awesome," she replied happily.

"Thought you'd like that," he responded, amused. "Thanks again, Neela."

"You're welcome. I'll keep in touch."

* * *

"Haha, suck it, motherfucker," Jesse chattered as the TV screen showed Leon's avatar spatter animated blood all over the screen. Letty laughed and Mia made a grossed out noise.

Han smirked as he moved toward the couch, making enough room for the others to follow him inside. Lindsey was awake now, sipping on a YooHoo with her tanned legs crossed on the footrest. She looked up as he moved toward her and smiled. He smirked back, dropping gracefully onto the couch beside her and stealing her chocolate milk.

"Hey!" she protested, frowning at him.

He grinned through his swig of the beverage, raising the glass. "You owe me, remember?"

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. "Yeah, whatever," she replied sassily, settling back into the cushions. Tilting her head to look at him closer, she asked, "So how'd it go?"

"How did what go?" he evaded easily, handing her back the glass bottle. She glared at him. He smirked. "It was fine, don't get an attitude."

She wrinkled her brow thoughtfully, pausing to take a drink. "Can I go back to the apartment now?"

He exhaled, almost a laugh but not quite. Trust her to ask the perfect question. "No," he denied, shaking his head. She leaned her head on the back of the couch, frowning worriedly as she turned her head to look at him. He cocked his head as well, leaving his face inches from hers. "You're stayin here for a while, we all are," he explained gently.

She sighed dramatically, raising her blue eyes to the ceiling. "Fine. Can I go get my shit?"

"Tomorrow," he promised, grinning.

She raised a brow. "Does that mean I don't have to go to school?"

He glanced at her cunningly. "C'mon, girl, don't you know you have the flu?"

She giggled. "I forgot," she replied nonchalantly.

He smirked again, but Dom's deep voice interrupted the conversation. Han glanced up; the muscular leader of the group had one of his thick arms around Letty's neck, and she had an arm around his waist. They were standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Han, your old room is still free. Lindz, you can bunk with Mia if you want. Brian… just find somewhere to sleep."

Light laughter echoed through the room as Brian's face contorted to a surprised, irritated expression. The couple bid the rest of the team goodnight then climbed the stairs, and Lindsey turned to Han. "You lived here?"

"For a little while," he replied casually, stealing her YooHoo again.

"You've got to stop doin that," she mumbled, then continued. "Before or after Tokyo?"

"Before," he answered. She frowned deeply, crossing her arms and waiting for him to finish with her drink. He bobbed an eyebrow at her expression. "What?"

She shrugged. "You're like… impossible to figure out and it's frustrating," she explained. He looked at her bemusedly, and she sighed. "You give vague answers to every question I ask, and you never explain anything in detail. It's like you don't want me to know anything about you."

His brows furrowed and he shrugged. "I told you, details are irrelevant. I'm here now and that's what matters."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Yeah, I guess. But you can't always leave the past behind you, Han. Sometimes it catches up with you."

She popped the footrest back down and climbed from the couch before he was even sure of what she was doing, then made her way up the stairs. Han watched her go, admiring as her hips moved under her thin skirt. He sighed then, heading toward his basement bedroom, exhausted.

* * *

Only a few short hours later, Lindsey climbed down the basement stairs softly and came to stop in front of a closed door. She hesitated for a moment, then knocked firmly. A moment passed, and she distinctly heard a deep, grumbling "What?" from the other side of the door.

Smirking, she tried the door handle. It was unlocked, so she pushed it open, slipping inside the dimly lit room. The only light came from a small, rectangular window near the ceiling to the right. The room was sparsely furnished, holding only a dresser, a nightstand, and a full sized bed. A familiar hoody, tee shirt, and pair of jeans were slung over the dresser. A phone, a set of car keys, some gum, and a wallet were on the nightstand.

Han was laying on his back, one arm curled under the pillow his head rested on and the other splayed across his abs. The sheet covered his lower body, perfectly aligning with the waistband of his black boxers. Lindsey 's eyes took in his lithe, toned body; how his muscles moved under his golden skin as he shifted, how his chest rose and fell as he breathed. His bicep swelled under his head as he cradled the pillow. His face was peaceful, his small mouth closed, his full lips set in a soft line. His eyelids were cracked in his half-awake state, and his perfect black hair was just a little mussed from his time in bed. He was gorgeous.

She blinked and shook her head a little, then padded her way over to the bed. "Han, it's time to wake up," she said softly and sweetly.

His brows furrowed and he sighed sleepily, his gently slanting eyes opening slowly. He looked at her, his eyes traveling down her tight tank top and tiny shorts clad body. Mia's stuff from a few years ago didn't cover that much. A lazy smirk formed on his face as he mumbled "Morning," lowly and suggestively.

Lindsey grinned. So Han even woke up flirtatious? Maybe he was naturally like that… Or maybe he was just horny. Forcing her mind back to business, she replied. "Mornin. Mia made breakfast, said if you didn't hurry up Vince would eat it all."

He shrugged half-heartedly, pulling the covers up further and settling back into the bed. His eyes dropped closed and she knew it would only be a second before he drifted off again. Shaking her head and giggling softly, moved closer to the bed. "Don't go back to sleep," she said, amused.

He ignored her, so she knelt on the bed and moved to shake him a little. Without even opening his eyes, he caught her wrist with his left hand. His right arm wrapped around her ribcage, and he pulled her over and into the bed. She cried out in surprise as she moved through the air, landing in the tangle of covers next to him. He was pressed gently against her side, and his face was only inches from hers. He smirked.

She rolled her eyes, but snuggled into the bed anyway. As she shifted, her body moved against his deliciously. She sighed softly. "I'm never gonna get back to sleep."

He snickered. "Neither will I, if you don't shut up."

She frowned. "That's not nice," she mumbled, jabbing him in the ribs.

He made a soft noise of discontent. "Neither was that," he countered. "Keep your hands to yourself, girl," he ordered.

She let out a snigger. "I don't wanna hear it," she replied. "Your hands pulled me into your bed. If anybody's a little grabby here it's you," she teased.

He smirked, opening his eyes. "Don't act like you don't wanna be here."

She looked at him arrogantly. "If I wanted to be in your bed I already woulda been," she replied flirtatiously.

His eyes darkened. "You think?" he asked casually.

"I know you do," she answered immediately, gazing at him challengingly.

He smirked. "Maybe," he replied, dragging his hot gaze down her body again. She bit the inside of her lip as her cheeks heated up. "But I'm not sure you could handle being in my bed, little girl," he explained seductively, his low voice dripping suggestions.

She smirked as her body melted, well aware that she was flushed and probably breathing unevenly. But dayum, this man knew how to turn a girl on. "I'm not so little, Han," she denied finally, meeting his gaze defiantly.

"Yeah?" he asked nonchalantly. "Good, cause I'm not either," he added, almost in a growl.

Lindsey's eyebrows arched gracefully as her mind reeled, searching for a reply in vain. He smirked arrogantly, and Mia's voice drifted down the stairs. "Hello? You two better get up here and help me!"

Lindsey hopped up instantly, calling back, "Comin, Mia!"

Han chuckled lowly at her word choice from the bed. "Oh shut up," she tossed over shoulder, rolling her eyes.

* * *

He watched her go, still smirking in amusement, then reached for his jeans. This was getting dangerous.

He had some weird fascination with the girl. Ever since she arrived in L.A. a few weeks ago, he'd been drawn to her. She was smart, witty, beautiful, and different from all the other girls that chased him around. Granted, she was entirely too reckless and more than a little stubborn, but she was an adrenaline junkie; they were all like that. However, she was only seventeen and he didn't do schoolgirls. She wasn't a casual relationship kind of girl. Brian and the rest of the team were way too protective to even give Han a chance with her, anyway, much less watch him fuck it all up.

He, on the other hand, was definitely a casual relationship kind of guy. He didn't want a girl; he was having fun. Maybe in a few years he'd be more open to a relationship, but right now? Why buy the whole cable package when you get all the best channels for free? He was easily distracted, and he wasn't at all used to turning down attractive women. Look at what happened last night, for Christ's sake. He had his fun with Sam, put off the priority, and almost let Lindsey…

He just wasn't a strong enough man to keep a steady relationship. Anyway, he just liked to flirt with the girl… he was a little infatuated. He was gonna have to make sure he kept a little distance between himself and the Jailbait from now on. She was way too tempting, and he was already too attached.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! PLEASE review!! _


	8. Take Me Away

_Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews to the last chapter! I'm glad you all enjoyed Han and Lindsey's flirtatiousness. I'll be putting in a lot more in the next few chapters!_

* * *

Enrique Gaines climbed from the backseat of his Escalade moodily, squinting in the bright California sunlight as he followed a couple of his partners inside the deserted, closed nightclub. He was tired, and he was angry. His boys were pissed off and wanted to get revenge on the whole Toretto crew. They were gonna protect that little girl with their lives… And Enrique wasn't stupid enough to think they wouldn't succeed. The most serious issue staring him down at the moment, however, was Daniel Kale.

His words were constantly ringing in Enrique's head. He could be replaced in a moment, and the Cuban wouldn't put it past the businessman to make it happen. The worst part was that nobody knew he worked for Kale; the man was like a ghost. Gaines seriously doubted the police even knew his transgressions existed under the radar. His crew sure as hell didn't know who they took their orders from, either. As far as they knew, Enrique masterminded everything. There was so much secrecy that Gaines knew his own demise would never be solved or avenged.

Therefore, Gaines had to keep a close eye on everything throughout the next few days. If worse came to worst, he was gonna pull a Han Thomas and catch the next flight outta L.A… But he would be smart enough not to come back.

* * *

Han smirked as he leaned against Lindsey's headboard, watching her move through her closet like a woman on a mission. She had three heaping piles of clothes tossed on the floor next to him, and a bag already filled with her shower stuff and almost her entire underwear drawer was waiting by the door. His smirk grew as he eyed her top drawer; the underwear had been his favorite part.

Lindsey moved out of the closet with a few pairs of shoes in her arms, dropping them at the foot of her bed and raking her hands through her long blonde hair impatiently. "I have no idea how I'ma get all this in there," she said, gesturing from the piles of clothes to the bag.

He snickered, gracefully climbing off the bed as Brian stuck his head in the room. "Holy shit, Lindz," Brian mumbled. "What the hell are you gonna do with all this?"

"Go away," Lindsey shot back, bending over and starting to stuff clothes in the bag. Han adverted his eyes as her tiny light pink tank top rode up.

"Can't," Brian replied cheekily. "Han has to go pack."

Lindsey frowned. "Does that mean I gotta stay with you now?" she asked miserably. Brian nodded, a sarcastically sweet smile on his face. She looked at Han. "I can't believe you're doin this to me," she shook her head.

He chuckled. "You can come help me when you're done," he said, reaching behind him and messing up her hair as he made his way out of the room. He heard Brian hop onto her bed while he moved through the living room.

"You're can't wear that! It's not a skirt, it's a fuckin belt!"

Han laughed again lightly, and moments later he made his way inside his own dark apartment. Grabbing a large duffel bag out of the hall closet, he moved into his bedroom, pausing when his cell rang loudly from his pocket. He tossed the duffel onto the bed and pulled out the phone.

Glancing at the screen, he saw "Sean" flash on the caller I.D. He answered quickly. "Yo."

"Hey, Han," Neela's voice replied immediately.

"How'd it go?" he questioned, masking his impatience with nonchalance.

"I think it went well," she revealed brightly. She inhaled deeply before adding, "But… there's something you're not gonna like."

"Figures," he responded grimly.

She sighed. "Kamata said they want to meet with you," she explained gently.

He frowned deeply, running a hand over his face. "Shiiit."

"That's not the worst part," she added. "They want you to personally deliver the first payment and arrange the first shipment."

"How much?" Han questioned, massaging his temple as his head began to ache.

"One million U.S. Nonrefundable, nonnegotiable," she replied. "They'll send the first shipment of car parts in return after they're sure you're serious. Twink says you're getting taken."

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" he responded. "Any guarantee I'll make it out alive?"

"He seemed open to the idea," she joked. "I really think you'll be okay. He seems to be more interested in making money than getting back at you."

"When do they want to see me?" he asked simply, choosing to ignore the possibility of murder-by-Yakuza.

"Two days," she answered.

"A'ight," he said. "I'll see you all soon. Tell Twink to keep his phone handy, I'll need a ride from the airport."

He hung up the phone, tossing it on his bed. Crossing quickly to his closet, he knelt on the ground. After pushing a few boxes out of the way, he uncovered a safe. He entered the electronic code from memory, then popped open the door. Reaching inside, he grabbed a couple stacks of bills. He peeled off a couple and stuck them in his wallet, then dropped the stacks in his bag. Quickly, he locked the safe and covered it back up, then started tossing socks and boxers into the bag.

A few minutes later, as he was moving on to the rest of his clothes, Lindsey popped into his room. "Hey," she greeted as she dropped onto his bed. "I've come seeking refuge from the wardrobe Nazi. Need any help?"

"Not really," he replied. "I'm almost done."

She reclined on his bed, taking a deep, relaxing breath. It smelled like him. "Your bed's comfortable."

He glanced at her. "Yeah, I know. You can stay there if you want," he replied flirtatiously.

She looked at him. "Thought I had to go stay at the fort," she deadpanned.

Han shrugged. "They can't get to you if I don't ever let you leave," he wiggled a brow.

She giggled. "Nice try, but I think Brian would have something to say about it."

"You never know," he replied vaguely, moving into the bathroom.

"Maybe some other time, though," she teased as he threw some more stuff into his bag.

"Don't make me promises you can't keep, O'Conner," he replied with a smirk.

She giggled. "Who said I can't keep them?"

He zipped the bag up, pulling the strap over his shoulder and leaning against the door frame of the bathroom. "So you're sayin you can?" he asked with a raised brow.

She grinned. "I could," she shrugged. "In theory."

He smirked back. "This ain't theory, baby, this is reality. And we've already established you're not ready to play with the big boys."

She rolled her eyes. "We'll see," she responded.

"C'mon," he chuckled, carrying the bag out into the living room.

As he locked his own apartment door, Brian lugged his and Lindsey's bags into the hallway and did the same across the hall. Lindsey grabbed the lighter of her two bags and quickly descended the stairs at the end of the hall. Brian trailed down the stairs as Han caught up with her easily, grabbing her by the waist as soon as she stepped outside.

"Wait for me," he said sternly, pulling her back against his body. She wiggled a little bit. He glared down at her. "Quit that."

"Why?" she asked innocently.

He smirked and replied in her ear so Brian didn't overhear. "Like I said, not ready to play with a big boy."

She bit her bottom lip and grinned. "Whatever, Han."

Brian caught up and shot Han a weird look. He shrugged and released Lindsey. "Alright, le's go."

* * *

After a solid five minutes of Lindsey and Brian arguing over who sat in the front seat, Han finally ordered Brian to be a good older brother and give in. Brian pouted and Lindsey grinned victoriously, and a few moments later Han was heading toward the fort.

He smoothly slowed as the Honda under his control approached a stoplight, glancing in his rearview mirror casually as he brought the car to a halt. A black, lowered Civic with tinted windows and black rims pulled out of the gas station behind them as Han accelerated through the now green light.

Han frowned as he kept an eye on the Civic. Lindsey glanced over at him. Noticing the dark look on his face, she asked, "What's up?"

He jerked his head back toward the following car. "They're ridin my ass."

She glanced back in her side mirror and raised a brow. "Worried you can't handle a tailgater?"

He smirked at her. "Not at all," he replied confidently.

He sped up easily, assuming the driver behind them was in a hurry. He turned down a side street, taking a shortcut to the Toretto's house that others rarely used. The Civic followed, staying directly behind the car. His frown deepened.

"Hey Han," Brian said in a warning tone. "I don't think this is a coincidence."

"Yeah, me either," he mumbled.

He slowed down experimentally, and the Civic sped up, pulling up beside the drivers side of the NSX-R and lurching dramatically to the right.

Han swore angrily and slammed his foot on the accelerator, shifting violently and barely evading the Civic. Brian turned around in the backseat, craning his neck to get a better look at the following car. Lindsey fastened her seatbelt.

Han navigated the NSX down the middle of the street, not allowing the Civic enough room to sideswipe them again. He drifted the next turn at a breakneck speed, running a red light and cutting through traffic as the Civic maintained his speed. Han shifted again as they barreled up a hill, flying past the Toretto's street.

The Civic stayed with him, accelerating as well. Han cursed again as the Civic got too close, throwing the NSX forward as the Civic came millimeters away from connecting with the back of the car. At this speed, Han wasn't sure he'd be able to prevent the car from going up in flames if the Civic caught up.

He drifted around another corner, onto a multilane street bordered by high industrial buildings. The Civic accelerated, approaching the right side of the NSX inch by inch. Han didn't speed up.

"What are you doing?" Lindsey asked sharply.

Han didn't answer her, but continued to let the Civic catch up bit by bit. Finally, as the driver of the Civic threw his steering wheel toward the NSX, Han drifted sharply around a corner and into an alley between two buildings. He expertly straightened his car and barreled through the alleyway, drifting again onto another main road in the opposite direction.

Lindsey looked around quickly. "Are they gone?" she questioned Han.

"I think so…" he replied. "Brian, you see them?"

"Nah," Brian responded. "I think we're good."

"Shit," Han breathed, slowing the car's speed down dramatically. "That was fuckin ridiculous," he murmured as he pulled up to another stoplight. Glancing back, he spotted the Civic hurtling toward the back of the car only a few feet back, headlights off as it quickly gained ground in the distance. "Fuck!"

Han slammed his foot down on the accelerator and shifted quickly, shooting down the straightaway and skirting around traffic. They were getting closer. Finally, Han rocketed up an on ramp to the interstate, hoping the Civic would follow.

It did. He smirked as he gained full speed on the straight highway, traveling into downtown L.A. The Civic kept his pace, but was unable to catch him. Finally, Han exited the interstate with the Civic close behind him, merging with the light traffic on one of L.A.'s busiest roadways.

Han weaved in and out of the slower moving cars effortlessly, his background in drifting allowing him to slip almost instinctively in tight spaces the Civic couldn't handle.

"Come on, asshole," Han mumbled. "I could do this all night."

Finally, he spotted another busy intersection ahead. He slipped the NSX into the median and barreled past the stopped cars, timing his cross perfectly. The light changed, and they barely made it across in front of a large SUV. Lindsey audibly gasped in the passengers seat.

The Civic followed him though the intersection, curving dramatically to avoid an oncoming Toyota. Crossing into the next lane, the driver sped up, and almost missed the huge semi speeding in his direction. The semi clipped the corner of the Civic's bumper, sending the small black car spinning across the intersection. Seconds later, it came to a halt in the center of the highway. A silver Lexus screeched in an attempt to stop, but was unable to avoid the Civic; it slammed into the drivers side of the black car violently with a sickening, dull thud.

Han glared back at the wreckage coldly, then navigated the car around a few blocks and found another on-ramp to the interstate. No one spoke.

They arrived back at the fort in minutes, and Dom greeted them in the driveway. "What the hell took you so long? I was about to come looking for you," he grumbled, taking one of the bags from Brian.

"Got caught in a little traffic," Han replied easily, giving Dom a pointed look.

Dominic nodded and led the way into the living room. "Hey Mia?" he called out. His sister appeared at the doorway to the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

"What's up?" she questioned.

"Why don't you and Letty have Lindsey help you in the kitchen?" he suggested. "They boys and I are gonna start the grill in the back."

Letty glared at him defiantly from the couch, but he sent her a look and she remained quiet. Lindsey raised a brow, but followed Mia into the kitchen without an argument. Han and Brian followed Dominic through the kitchen and outside, where Leon, Jesse, and Vince were chillin at the table.

Han grabbed a beer on the way to the table, then dropped into the first seat on the left, next to Dom and across from Vince. Dom sat down as well, not even glancing at the waiting grill. He looked expectantly at Han.

"Somebody followed us here," he explained grimly as he twisted the top off of his beer bottle. "Couple guys in a Civic. Led them through an intersection and they got plowed."

Dom sighed and the others grumbled their irritation. "That's bullshit," Vince piped up. "I say we take care of these assholes once and for all."

Han shook his head. "I's not that easy, V," he denied. After a moment, he continued. "I gotta make a trip back to Tokyo," he revealed. "I'm takin her with me."

Brian shook his head, sighing. "She's not gonna like that at all, man," he warned. "She doesn't like situations where she's uncomfortable."

Han shrugged. "She'll be fine. She can't stay here, it's too dangerous and she knows it," he said. "Are you okay with me takin her away?"

Brian paused and thought it over. Then nodded briefly. "I'm cool," he agreed. "You take good care of her. I trust you."

"A'ight," Han replied. "I gotta head over to the club and see Gaines," he frowned, taking a long drink of his beer. "Make sure Lindsey doesn't unpack her shit. I'ma see if we can leave tonight."

* * *

Han threw his cigarette into a potted plant as he reached the top of the stairs, sidestepping the lingerie-clad woman on the landing and making his way back into the VIP.

"Hey! You can't go in there!" someone called after him, but he ignored them and busted into the closed off room.

Nobody paid him much attention as he moved through the crowd, coming to a stop in front of the familiar white suede couch in the center of the room. Gaines was there, with a blunt in his hand and a bitch on his lap. Han glared down at him, and Enrique motioned for him to sit.

Han watched as the petite girl got up and strutted away, looking rather put out. Then, he turned his cold gaze to Enrique. "Han, what can I do for you?"

"We were followed earlier," he said simply.

Gaines cleared his throat, nodding uncomfortably. "I heard bout that, brotha. The driver died," he explained grimly. Han leveled him with a cold, masked look. Gaines shifted uncomfortably. "I told you, man, the boys ain't gonna give up."

"I'm goin to Tokyo," Han replied, ignoring Gaines words. "Tonight. I'm meeting with the Yakuza in two days, and they want me to drop off one million U.S. dollars as a show of good faith and to use as the first payment," he revealed swiftly. "If you want this to work, you gotta give me the money now."

Gaines face registered surprise. "Yo, it's not really that easy, dude."

Han rolled his eyes. "Go call whoever it is you work for and make it easy, Gaines. I don't have time to fuck with you right now."

Gaines' jaw tightened. "I don't know why you're thinkin you call the shots here. This is my game. How do I know you're not gonna take my money and make a break for it?"

"You don't," Han replied lowly. "But you're gonna hope to hell it don't go down like that, and you're gonna give me the money," he repeated, staring him down. "Now go make the call."

Enrique glared at him, finally nodding and standing up. "Wait here," he revealed as he made his way around the couch. Han watched as a big guy near the back of the room made a move toward him, but Enrique stopped him with a sharp shake of his head. They exchanged words and Gaines slipped through a door in the back. Han settled back into the plush couch and watched his surroundings carefully, forcing down the feeling of being in the lion's den.

A few minutes and quite a few threatening glares later, Enrique returned with a brief case in one hand and an envelope in the other. His face was set in a deep, worried frown. Gaines handed him the case. Han opened it up carefully, picking up a couple of the stacks of bills and flipping through them to make sure they were legit. He nodded in acceptance, then looked at the envelope in his hand.

Gaines followed his gaze. "This is for your contact in the Yakuza," he explained. "You ain't supposed to read it," he warned.

Han raised a brow challengingly, silently asking 'Or what?'

Gaines didn't reply to his unexpressed question and handed him the envelope. "You got my number. Let me know what's goin down over there," he ordered moodily.

"Fine," Han replied, picking up the briefcase and moving to walk away. "And Gaines? Make sure you tell your boys I'm takin Lindsey with me. You're not gonna like what happens if they start fuckin around the Torettos' place while I'm gone."

* * *

"Let me know if you need me to take care of anything here," Dominic said seriously as he pulled Han and Lindsey's bags from the trunk. "And be careful over there."

"Will do, man," Han promised, shaking his hand.

"And you," Dom turned his attention to Lindsey, who was pulling on a Famous hooded sweatshirt and putting her iPod in her tote bag. "Don't give Han too much trouble. He's not as young has he used to be," he joked.

Lindsey giggled. "I would never," she replied easily, grinning at Dom.

The bald man smiled back, pulling her into a quick, one-armed hug. "I know you wouldn't shawty. They all tell lies about you makin trouble, don't they?"

Han chuckled. "Right," he remarked doubtfully, beckoning to an airplane employee with a cart and handing him some money as he gestured to the baggage. "She's an angel."

"Hell yeah I am," Lindsey shot back with an arrogant smirk. "Now don't we have a plane to catch?"

"Yeah, yeah," Han replied. "Like you're ever on time for anything," he teased.

Dom shook his head, bidding them goodbye one last time as he climbed in his car. As he pulled away from the curb, he shouted "Don't forget to call Brian!" through the open window. Han snickered, slipping an arm around her shoulders and steering her into LAX.

"C'mon, girl, we gotta check our shit in."

* * *

_Yayy! They're going to Tokyo! Alone! I wonder what will happen?_

_Actually, I don't. Because I know. But you don't!_

_Sorry, this was kind of a filler, but I needed to make their trip seem somewhat believable._

_I have the next few chapters planned out, and they are action packed. I can't wait!_

_PLEASE review and let me know what you think!!_


	9. What I Want

_Thanks for the reviews! I wasn't at all satisfied with the last chapter, so this one is EXTRA LONG! The scene on the balcony has been in my head for weeks now, I'm so glad to finally be able to bring it to you. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_ALSO, there are quite a few references to Justin Lin's "Better Luck Tomorrow," starring SUNG KANG as HAN. Watched it recently, it was excellent and I totally recommend it; it's available on iTunes. It totally inspired a couple parts of this chapter, as well as some interesting moments pertaining to the future of this story. :]_

* * *

Kaiya Wu threw her dishtowel down as the clock struck eight p.m., bringing an official end to one of the most dull shifts of her life. It was eight o'clock at night in Tokyo's Narita International Airport, and she was more than ready to get home. It was a race night, and Matsu was supposed to race. Maybe he'd notice her tonight…

"Kaiya!" Amaya, the other part timer at the souvenir shop exclaimed. "I just got a text from Hoshi. Guess who just got off a plane?" she asked in rapid-fire Japanese.

She shrugged. "Justin Timberlake?" she guessed randomly.

Amaya rolled her eyes. "No, Kai. Han!" she revealed excitedly.

Kaiya gasped. "Really?" Sure, neither of them had ever actually spoken to the handsome Asian-American before, but absolutely everyone knew who he was. He was a celebrity in the underground racing scene, and everyone who was anybody kept up with his actions.

"Yeah," Amaya confirmed. "Hoshi's helping him with his bags, and Jiro is pulling his car around. He said someone dropped it off earlier today.

She kept one eye trained on the milling travelers as she clocked out. Sure enough, the familiar, mysterious, sexy face of Han was spotted about a head above the rest of the crowd, thanks to his taller than average height. His arm was slung around a petite American girl's shoulders. As they leveled with the souvenir shop, Han leaned down and said something into the blonde's ear. She smiled.

Kaiya grabbed her phone immediately and snapped a picture of the pair. She couldn't wait to tell everyone Han was back… and that he wasn't alone.

* * *

The ten hour flight from L.A. to Tokyo was fairly uneventful. The food was bad, the in-flight movie was bad, and the constant yammering of the couple seated behind Lindsey and Han (in Japanese, no less, so Lindsey couldn't even eavesdrop) was just… bad. Lindsey spent most of the flight asleep on Han's shoulder. A few inappropriate jokes about the Mile High Club later, the plane touched down without incident.

As soon as they arrived at the terminal, Han slipped a secure arm around Lindsey's waist. They ambled along casually while everyone else pushed, shoved, and chattered their way through the crowds. Lindsey's eyes darted around constantly as she took in her first Japanese experience; everyone she saw was like a life-sized figure out of those Asian comic books she always saw people reading. It didn't take her long to realize that her blonde hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin stuck out like a Camry among Lamborghinis here.

Han steered her along, muttering little details about their surroundings in her ear as they walked. She smirked as he leaned down to speak directly into her ear; he was a few inches taller than pretty much everyone else at the airport. As usual, however, he carried himself with an air of casual elegance and nonchalance, his expression set in his traditional indifference.

They easily made their way through the baggage claim and out of the airport, thanks to a teenage guy in an airport uniform already having their bags ready. As they reached the curb, Han walked directly over to a blue and orange Nissan Silvia parked in front of the exit. The bag boy and the valet loaded the bags into the trunk. Han tipped them both. Two girls exited the terminal together as he opened the car door. The first one nudged her companion, and they both sent him flirtatious looks.

As he climbed into the Silvia, Lindsey shook her head and grinned. "What?" Han asked curiously.

"You cannot have fan girls in more than one country," she said, amused. "It's unfair."

He grinned. "It's different here than in L.A.," he shrugged. "You'll see. We're gonna be very well taken care of here."

* * *

As Han easily dealt with the nighttime traffic, Lindsey watched the busy streets of Tokyo pass by in a blur of people and lights. The soft sound of bass and Japanese rapping pulsed through the car, posing as a soundtrack for her first drive through the beautiful city. After a few minutes, Han turned onto a narrow street lined with high brick buildings.

She probably wouldn't have even noticed the small alleyway if Han hadn't turned into it next, stopping the car in front of a single garage door set in a huge wall of brick and aluminum. He pressed a button on the roof of the car and the garage opened slowly. He glanced over at her, then pulled the car inside.

Lindsey felt her mouth fall open in surprise as they parked inside a huge two-story garage, complete with lifts and a loft high above the main workspace. Cars of every make were parked around the floor, surrounded by boxes and boxes of car parts and chests of tools. It was like a mechanics wet dream come true.

"Wow," she said simply, drawing each letter into its own syllable, adjusting the strap of her huge black purse on her shoulder.

He smirked again. "This is it," he said, shrugging.

"_This_," she repeated as she climbed out of the car. "Is your garage?"

He climbed from the Silvia and nodded casually. She laughed lightly. "Dom's never been here, has he?" she assumed with a grin.

He shook his head. "No, why?"

"Because, I think it'd leave him feeling completely inadequate. He may never recover from the shock," she teased. "This place is great."

Han shrugged. "It does the job," he shrugged modestly.

"Do I get the grand tour?" she asked enthusiastically, her steps already drifting toward the cars parked on the floor of the garage.

"Not right now," he shook his head. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" she questioned, curiosity coloring her voice. She followed him into the loft, past a lounge area, and through a door.

"To change," he answered vaguely, guiding her through a hallway and down another set of stairs.

"Don't we need our luggage for that?" she reminded suspiciously.

He smirked. "No, we're in a hurry. We're not gonna be in Tokyo for long, you know," he revealed. He opened a door and flicked on the light. "The clothes on the bed should fit you. I'll meet you back here in ten minutes," he said, shutting the door behind her.

"Oh-kay…" she agreed needlessly, turning around and walking over to the bed. A black, mini sweater dress was laid out on the aqua comforter, and a pair of high heeled black boots were neatly placed nearby in the floor. A handwritten note was placed next to the dress. It read "_Welcome to Tokyo! Use anything you need!_"

Lindsey raised an eyebrow, then quickly undressed. As she put on the sweater dress, she looked at the framed pictures that decorated the walls and every free surface in the sizeable room. Most of them were of an exotic, dark haired girl and a white guy with a toothy grin.

Reaching into her purse, she grabbed her makeup bag. After a quick touchup, she sprayed on some perfume and smoothed her long blonde hair. Han was waiting for her when she exited the room.

He'd changed into a pair of jeans and an open white button down over a plain, v neck white cotton tee. A black velour blazer was thrown over his arm. He didn't say anything about her outfit, but his eyes lingered appreciatively in all the usual places. She smirked, and he slipped an arm around her waist, leading her back the way they'd come. Typical Han; mysterious and vague.

They climbed into a black and yellow '72 Skyline, and Han sped through the streets of Tokyo. After a few minutes, he pulled the car off of the street and into an underground parking garage. They guy manning the gate nodded at him with a smile as he drove inside.

"Welcome to Tokyo," he remarked smoothly, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as she watched the scenery pass by. She'd never seen so many unique high performance cars or crazy outfits in one place, and that was saying something; she'd been going to races in Cali since she was about fifteen.

"I feel like I'm at the fuckin circus," she joked quietly.

He snickered appreciatively, slotting the Skyline between a RX-8 with a black and aqua fade and a classic 67 Mustang. As he cut the engine, a crowd of people swarmed the car excitedly.

"What the hell?" she asked, her eyebrows arching. "You really do have a fan club, don't you?"

He smiled and climbed out of the car. He was instantly met by three scantily clad Japanese girls. One handed him a beer and another handed him a little bag of snacks. All three of the bitches kissed him. Lindsey's eyes narrowed, and she slipped gracefully out of the car and swaggered around the car to stand at his side.

Han disentangled himself from the Skanky Sisters, as Lindsey so cleverly internally dubbed them, as another wave of people approached. A black guy with braids and a friendly smile grasped his hand and bumped shoulders with him. "Han, my man, it's about time you kept it real and came back home," he said excitedly. "You won't even believe the offer I got for you. It's somethin every real playa should be in on, forreal, and-"

"Jesus, Twink," a deeply Southern accent cut in. "Let the man breathe for a minute."

The voice belonged to the white guy Lindsey had seen in the pictures she'd looked at earlier. He quickly gave Han a manly, one armed hug. The pretty girl with dark hair from the pictures held his other hand, and was smiling widely at Han. "I'm so glad you're back!" she exclaimed in an exotic accent. "I need help keeping these monkeys in line!"

"Yo, who you callin a monkey?" the first guy asked, looking at her with amused disapproval. "Only monkeys around here are those two," he pointed at two thin Asian kids standing nearby, engaged in discussion over a laptop.

"Shut up, Twinkie!" the girl with bangs shouted, glaring at him. "Hi, Han," she greeted as an afterthought.

"Han, will you please tell Reiko her ideas for the graphics on my new car are all wrong?" the guy next to her asked. "She's been bitching about them all day!"

Lindsey smiled. Their energy was infectious, and it was very obvious that Han was the center of their tight-knit group. She wondered, fleetingly, if the Toretto team compared for him, or if he always missed the people in front of him now.

Han inclined his head, silently telling her to move closer to him. She did as she was asked, triumphantly sidestepping Skank Sisters One and Two as she went. "This is Lindsey," he introduced. She mimicked his casual stance, leaning against the Skyline at his side.

"Lindz, this is Sean, Neela, Twink, Earl, and Reiko," he listed, nodding at each one in turn. "They work at the garage."

She grinned as he skipped the Skank Sisters. "Hey," she greeted smoothly. The crew all offered her a few words in return, and Neela immediately hopped over to her.

"I was so worried Han would get your sizes wrong," she revealed conspiratorially. "But you look great! Did you find everything you needed?"

Lindsey grinned. "Yeah, it was fine, thank you."

"No problem," Neela replied. "I was in such a hurry before we left earlier, I was afraid I'd forgotten something. I like the girly stuff, but I'd always much rather be at a race."

Lindsey giggled. "Girl, I already know," she responded enthusiastically. "Isn't it such a pain in the ass to have to keep up with the chasers every night?"

The two girls quickly became engrossed in their conversation about how annoying racer chasers were, and the guys started talking shop off to the side. A few minutes later, someone told Sean he'd been challenged to a race.

Lindsey moved back to Han as Neela wished her boyfriend good luck, looking at him for an explanation. "Sean's DK," he said. "Drift King. He's the best drifter in the city, and he constantly has to defend his title," he clarified, opening his muchies.

Lindsey held out a hand. He dropped a couple into her palm casually. "So now they're gonna race their little cars with their little engines in an epic battle for bragging rights?" she predicted.

He grinned. "Yeah, something like that."

As the race fans pressed closer to the drifters' path, Han and Lindsey remained leaning nonchalantly against his car, snacking. Han occasionally commented or explained something while the race was set up. Finally, Sean and his Thai challenger met at the starting line. Two of the three Skank Sisters counted them down. Lindsey smirked, looking bored.

By the time Sean and the kid drifted around their second turn, however, Lindsey was watching the race anxiously and admirably. A gasp tore from her lips as Sean's bumper slid around the turn only centimeters from the concrete wall of the garage, sliding into a straightaway just in time. "Oh my God," she exclaimed nervously, craning her neck as the cars sped up to the next level.

Han laughed, casually guiding her toward the elevator with the rest of the monkeys. The local girls all eyed the arm around her waist with contempt. Lindsey smiled back sweetly.

They awaited the end of the race at the top of the garage, standing amidst the cheering crowd as the Sean skidded to a stop after drifting up the winding tower. Lindsey whistled lowly as smoke rose from the pavement below the Mustang's Toyos, shaking her head as he climbed victoriously from the car.

"You can do that, can't you?" she asked, tugging on Han's hand. He nodded slightly, smirking. "Teach me," she requested eagerly, her blue eyes pleading with him.

"Maybe one day," he smirked.

"You were really good about gettin away from that Civic today… or… yesterday…" she frowned. "Did someone here teach you?"

He shook his head no, and she looked at him in surprise. "I didn't learn to drift here. This is just where I perfected my technique," he explained. "Then I taught Sean everything he needed to know," he revealed cockily.

She shook her head, hiding her smile. "Arrogant."

"Confident," he corrected. "I'll practice with you," he promised. "If you're good," he added with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. He chuckled, and they made their way back toward the Skyline as the fans all raced to the after party.

* * *

Lindsey downed the rest of her Miller Light, looking over the bottom of the bottle darkly as yet another skank laughed and flirted with Han. After they'd arrived at the party fashionably late, he'd been whisked away by one, two, or ten bitches at a time who were eager to "catch up" on his life. Lindsey was used to having his undivided attention, and she decided about two minutes into the night that sharing Han was not a good plan. It was decidedly unpleasant, actually.

Thankfully, Twink had rescued her almost immediately, leading her to a slightly buzzed Neela and Reiko. The beer was cold, the music was good, and there was plenty of dancing space in the center of the room. Lindsey was just starting to get into her element.

Sean returned to the group a moment later, carrying a handful of tequila shots. As Lindsey and Neela reached for their glasses, Kevin Rudolph's "Let It Rock" poured through the speakers. She grinned widely and threw back her shot, and decided in a split second that Han could do whatever, or whomever, he wanted. She was going to have a good time with him or without him.

* * *

After a few more minutes of dancing with Neela, who was turning out to be an absolute blast, Lindsey felt someone slip up beside her and grab her Whiskey Sour. Turning around, surprised, she locked eyes with Han.

"Hi," she greeted, relaxed. "Havin fun?" she asked cheerfully. He shrugged nonchalantly, and she giggled. "Well, I am," she revealed, following him to the bar.

"I can tell," he smirked, sipping her drink as he leaned against the bar. "Whiskey Sour? Who the hell drinks this shit?" he asked, amused.

She glared at him. "I do," she replied superiorly, looking up at him. He remained quiet, but stared down at her, smiling again. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and changed the subject. "So, did you catch up with the fan girls?" she asked casually, gesturing to the models scattered around with her glass. Most of them were glaring intensely at her.

He nodded, smirking again. "I can't believe you got away," she mused playfully. "It had to break their hearts."

"They'll survive," he remarked carelessly, grabbing a beer. "They always do."

Lindsey shook her head. "You know, you don't have to keep such a good eye on me here. I'm not in any danger, I'm sure Neela and Twinkie can handle me," she said seriously. "I'll behave."

He looked at her doubtfully, and she added, "I will! You should get to do what you want."

"I am," he said simply, taking a drink of his beer. She blinked. "Anyway, I don't think you'll ever be good," he added, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yeah, you're probably right," she added, looking up at him flirtatiously. "I'm just so good at being bad. Why fix what works?"

He grinned. "My point," he agreed, placing a hand on the small of her back. "I wanna show you something."

She grabbed a bottle of tequila as they moved away from the bar, and he raised an eyebrow at her. "What?" she asked innocently. "I'm thirsty."

He shook his head and led her through the crowds, stopping to talk to a couple people. Lindsey waited patiently, glued to his side, and watched him interact. He was always so cool and collected. She found herself musing over whether or not he'd always been like that as she finished her drink. She hadn't eaten very much that day, and she had a pleasant buzz going on as they continued moving through the crowds.

Eventually, they made it all the way out of the club. They walked down a hallway and into the garage, moved to the other side of the loft, and exited a door on the opposite side of the building.

Lindsey followed him out onto a large covered balcony overlooking a rooftop soccer field. The inky black sky stretched above in every direction, the moon and a faint spatter of stars shining down on the well-lit rooftop. "Impressive," she mumbled. She moved closer to him as a cool breeze swept through the air, ruffling her hair. Then, she spotted the end of the balcony, looking out on the city lights and the street so many feet below. She leaned on the railing, watching the people mill around in the busy intersection with fascination.

"It's gorgeous," she remarked softly. "How can you leave it?" she asked, looking up at him.

He moved to stand beside her, leaning against the railing and opening the bottle of tequila. He took a swig from the bottle and shrugged. "It gets old," he explained simply. He watched as the lights hypnotized her again, his eyes caressing the curve of her chin as her wisps of her hair blew lightly against her bronzed skin. She shivered lightly, and he shrugged out of his blazer and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said, shrugging into in and slipping her hands into the deep pockets. She arched a brow as she pulled out his cigarettes and lighter from the right pocket. "I didn't know you smoke."

"Like a fuckin chimney in high school," he revealed. "I quit, but then I started again," he shrugged.

She smiled as she pulled a cigarette from the pack and lit it easily, inhaling the nicotine and letting it spread through her system. She passed it to him, and giggled a moment later.

"What?" he asked.

"It's hard for me to imagine you in high school," she commented, tilting her head and looking up at him. "What were you like?"

He shrugged again, flicking the cigarette. "Like I am now, I guess," he said. "Just… pulled a few scams, partied a lot. Worked on my car."

"What was your first car?" she asked eagerly.

He smiled fondly, a genuine smile, not a smirk or a half-hearted grin. "A '65 Mustang. Red. Perfect condition," he described, taking another draw off the cigarette.

"What happened to it?" she pressed, grabbing the tequila and swallowing a drink.

He sighed. "I sold it," he explained. "Too many bad memories."

She looked at him closely, nodded, and handed him the tequila. "You should keep that over there," she advised. "I'm drunk."

He chuckled. "A'ight," he agreed, passing her the cigarette.

She yawned loudly before inhaling the cigarette again, and he laughed. "You slept through the entire plane ride, how the fuck are you tired again?"

She shrugged, handing him the cigarette. "I don't know. You're a very comfortable pillow, though," she complimented, closing the distance between their bodies and leaning against his chest. He handed her the tequila and stood there comfortably, one arm around her, smoking the rest of the cigarette. "I can't believe you sold a mint 65 Mustang," she mumbled a moment later. "You're out of your fuckin mind."

He laughed lightly, then fell silent. A few minutes later he spoke again. "My cousin committed suicide when I was eighteen," he said suddenly. "I sold my car because it reminded me of him… Then I left the part of L.A. I grew up in and I never went back."

She stiffened in his arms, then relaxed against his chest again. "I'm sorry," she said simply.

He shrugged against her, tossing the butt of his cigarette over the railing. He reached down into his jacket pocket and grabbed the pack, pulling out another and lighting it up. "I changed everything that reminded me. Stopped smoking. I distracted myself," he revealed. "With cars, women… and I pushed the limits as much as I could," he said slowly. "I didn't really have much to lose, I guess," he added. "And then I almost died when my car blew up, and I realized that I'm a fuckin idiot. So I went home."

She turned in his arms, looking at him instead of at the view. "I don't think you are," she denied. "I think you just… didn't know how to deal," she explained, shrugging. "I don't think anyone knows how to handle losing someone they love. I didn't."

They stood there like that for a while. Han would smoke, she would drink, and then they'd switch. They were silent, both thoughtful and reflective. Suddenly, however, the door to the balcony flew open and Neela, Sean, Twinkie, Reiko, and Earl all stumbled outside. Neela turned the stereo on and she and Reiko started dancing. Twinkie and Earl headed out onto the field. Sean stopped and looked at Han and Lindsey oddly.

Moments later, Neela whisked a giggling Lindsey to the other side of the balcony, leaving Han with the cigarette, the tequila, and a smirking Sean.

"What?" Han asked dully.

"Figured you'd be with some model by now," he shrugged. "But you were out here."

Han nodded.

"With the girl you brought from L.A.," Sean added.

Han nodded again. "Yep."

"Since when do you smoke?" Sean added as an afterthought.

A few minutes later, the group gathered in the center of the balcony area, watching Twink and Earl chug down the rest of their beers. Han smirked and snickered a little. Twink sent him a challenging look. "Like you can do any better, playa."

Han arched an eyebrow and took the fifth of tequila from Lindsey. About a third of the amber liquid swirled in the bottom. Han raised the bottle in a toast, then downed the rest of it with a wince. "Holy shit," Lindsey remarked as he handed her back the empty bottle.

He put an unlit cigarette between his lips and raised the lighter to it, and she pulled his hand back down. "Han! Don't light that shit, you'll explode!"**

He chuckled, still pretty sober. "Come on, I'll show you where you're sleepin."

They bid the rest of the crew goodnight and ambled through the garage, easily avoiding the dwindling crowd inside. Han tossed his cigarette aside and dropped the tequila bottle in the trash as they reached the basement living area. He steered her to a door on the opposite end of the hall from Neela's room.

"This is it," he said, pushing the door open. The walls were chocolate brown, coordinating well with the ivory carpeting and tan bedspread. The comforter was pulled down, revealing chocolate cotton sheets and a ton of matching pillows. Her bags were beside the dresser, and her purse was on the nightstand.

"Who decorated?" she asked curiously.

He grinned. "Neela."

"I like Neela, she's sweet," she remarked, kicking off her boots a little clumsily. She crossed the room barefoot, bending down and unzipping her bag. "Turn around okay?"

He arched a brow. "Why?"

"I'm changing," she said obviously, holding up a pair of Soffe shorts and a cami.

He looked at her cluelessly. "Nothing I haven't seen before," he shrugged.

"Well you haven't seen mine, so turn around," she ordered. He chuckled, sitting on the bed and facing the opposite direction. "And no peeking."

When she was done, he went into the adjacent bathroom and brought back a glass of water and two Tylenol. "Here, take these," he said, appreciatively surveying her short shorts and skimpy top.

She downed the glass of water and he moved toward the door. "Wait, where are you going?" she asked, frowning.

"To my room," he explained slowly.

"Where's that?" she questioned, a dark look on her pretty face.

He smirked. "Right next door."

"You should just stay here," she suggested, sitting on the bed. "In case I can't find you later."

He raised an eyebrow. The thought was tempting… Being in a bed, all alone with a half dressed Lindsey was not a bad idea… "Not tonight," he sighed. "I'll never get the rest of them to shut the fuck up if I do."

"So?"

He smirked. "As much as I know you want me to stay," he said silkily. "I'ma be right there," he pointed to the left. "And you have everything else you need here. The bathroom's right there," he nodded to the right. "Do you need anything else?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. "Thank you. You're always so sweet to me," she said tiredly.

He winced. "Let's keep that between us," he suggested quietly. She smiled and stood up, closing the gap between them again quickly. Han felt her warm breath on his neck as she stretched to meet him, her warm body flush against his. He could feel the heat radiating off of her skin as the slight scent of vanilla teased him. She bit her bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth as she moved closer to his face; heat coursed through his body as he watched her soft, full pink lips come closer to his. Finally, he felt them touch his cheek softly but firmly, so close to his own lips…

Visions of grabbing her and claiming her lips with his own filled his head as desire slammed into him with the force of a semi. Quick flashes of her straddling his lap, her body glistening as she writhed over his body tantalized him; he could almost smell the hint of sex and sweat in the air as he watched his little seventeen year old seductress pull away. She smiled up at him provocatively, her blue eyes peeping out from under her lashes.

"Goodnight," she whispered lightly, stepping back toward the bed slowly. He let out his breath in a rush, panting to catch his breath as he dragged his heated gaze over her tanned, toned body once more. Locking his eyes on her, he smirked one last time and left.

He couldn't remember why he wasn't staying, but he was quite positive of two things. He _wanted _her… and when he finally had her, she wasn't leaving his bed for a week.

* * *

_Thanks so much for reading! Leave a review, let me know what you think!!_

_Oh, and the asterisk-ed line (Han downing the tequila and Lindsey saying he'd blow up) was directly from Better Luck Tomorrow!_


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